


Rewards of the Maker

by stealyourshiny



Series: Tests of the Maker [5]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders is more awesome than he thinks he is, Angst and Humor, Background Nathaniel/Cauthrien, Depression, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Jealousy, Letters to the Maker, M/M, Political Intrigue, Post-Dragon Age II, Zevran knows more about people's feelings than they do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-11 14:46:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stealyourshiny/pseuds/stealyourshiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Final story in the Tests series. Anders and Fenris return to Ferelden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Day 1: 

_Dear Maker,_

_Please shut Zevran up. I mean, yes he’s handsome and funny and charming, and yes I’ve slept with him multiple times since I’ve known him, but does he really need to talk about it and flirt with me so blatantly?_

_~Anders_

Day 4:

_Dear Maker,_

_Make him stop that. Seriously. Does he need to offer to massage my ass after riding so long every night? I mean, I appreciate the attention. I do. It’s been a long time since I’ve had that sort of attention, but..._

_~Anders_

Day 7:

_Dear Maker,_

_Thank you for us not being captured by templars in Nevarra City._

_I do not thank you for the squeak that I made when Zevran groped me later though. Or the dirty look Fenris gave me. He hasn’t spoken to me since we left Hossberg. He probably thinks I’m some evil sexual deviant or something._

_I hate you._

_~Anders_

Day 9:

_Dear Maker,_

_Thank you! We’re just outside Cumberland and I can’t wait till I’m on a ship and DRUGGED._

_~Anders_

_Dear Maker,_

_If you do not shut that Antivan whore up, I will rip his spine out through his mouth and feed it to the sharks. And then I will dance on his empty shell before force-feeding it to Anders._

_No love,_

_Fenris_

_To the Maker,_

_Thank you for the entertainment you have provided me on this long journey from the north into the cold of the south. I especially am enjoying the broody Tevinter and his obvious jealousy of past discretions with my darling phoenix._

_I believe I may stay around Vigil’s Keep longer than planned, just for the continuing drama that is unfolding before my eyes._

_~Your favourite Crow._


	2. Chapter 2

The most cold that Fenris had ever dealt with was Kirkwall winter. Which had been wet and cold. He remembered once he had woken up to four inches of snow in his bedroom, which had prompted him to put boards across the hole in the roof during the colder months. He was not prepared for what Amaranthine had to offer him.

“People willingly live in this?” he growled, rubbing his arms through his thick warden armour and stamping his feet. Connor laughed at him and shrugged as they watched the gangplank being lowered.

“It’s much worse further south. You should see Gwaren or Ostagar. They’re probably completely snowed in at this point.”

“Snowed in?”

“As in, they can’t get out the door because the snow is so high it blocks all exits.”

Fenris’ eyes bulged a little at the very idea and he shivered violently.

“Ah, there you are my friends. Do you think you could go below and assist our great Commander? He is still fighting the effects of the last sleeping draught he consumed and will need assistance. I will see about getting us a room for the night, and some horses for tomorrow,” Zevran said, coming up next to the two and smiling.

“Are you sure you can find somewhere, Zev?” Connor looked dubiously at the crowded streets of Amaranthine. He could just see the makeshift refugee town over the walls from their vantage point at the docks.

“Of course.” The assassin winked at Connor. “You should attend to Tomas before he falls overboard.”

Fenris scowled at the Antivan, but did as he was bade since it would get him out of the cold sea air. He went below deck and made his way to the cabin they had all packed into, finding Anders rubbing his face and swaying a little where he sat.

“We’re in Amaranthine.”

“Mhmm.”

“There’s snow.”

“Mhmm.”

“Zevran says we have to stay the night.”

“Mkay.”

“Are you awake?”

“Huh?”

Fenris sighed and moved to the mage, putting his arm around his shoulders and pulling him up. Anders stumbled a little but after maneuvering carefully they arrived back on deck. He gently led Anders down the gangplank, meeting Tomas and Connor at the bottom.

Tomas made a few gestures at him and Fenris sighed, shifting Anders’ weight a little as the mage leaned heavily against him.

“He’s still under the effects of the sleeping potion,” Fenris told the young man who watched his lips carefully and then nodded. Tomas had been learning Trade during their trip down to the Waking Sea. Anders telling him a word in Anders and then repeating it in Trade so he could see the shape. He learned very quickly, bright and curious. Fenris seemed to understand his gestures and the elf enunciated so particularly when he spoke that the two of them had found a rapport during the ship voyage.

“Here you are. I have procured a room - at great cost I might add - that we will have to share for the evening. Do you think our illustrious Commander will be coherent in the morning?” Zevran said as he walked up to them out of the crowd of sailors and refugees that populated the dock.

Connor nodded and took Tomas’ hand while Fenris coaxed Anders to move again. Zevran came over to the mage’s other side and attempted to help, but only got growled at for his trouble. He grinned and shrugged, holding his hands where Fenris could see them, instead leading the way to the inn.

The streets were even worse than the docks, people wrapped in blankets, standing in food lines. There were guards and soldiers everywhere trying to keep the peace and keep everyone organised for the lines giving out clothing and food. Nathaniel must have his hands full, no wonder he sent for Anders.

The inn was just as crowded, people sleeping in chairs, bedrolls on the floors. Fenris was amazed that Zevran had managed to get a room.

“Upstairs to the left. We’re sharing with someone, but it is better than sleeping in the snow, no?”

Zevran opened the door and ushered the four into the room. It was a suite, with a small parlour with a couch, and a large bed in the next room. Fenris walked with Anders into the bedroom and settled the mage onto the mattress, where he immediately curled up and fell back asleep. In the next room he heard the door open again and voices.

“The Commander and his entourage are here?” That voice sounded somewhat familiar...

“Yes, my friend. The Commander does not care for boats it seems, so he is in the next room and under the influence of a sleeping potion at the moment.” That was Zevran.

“And who are these two fine young men?”

“Ah, this is Warden Connor Guerrin-”

“Guerrin?”

“Yes, Arl Teagan is my uncle.” Connor was speaking now. Fenris pursed his lips, trying to place that voice as he pulled a blanket over Anders, making sure the idiot wouldn’t wake up cold or with a crick in his neck.

“-And this is Tomas Skovsgaard. He is the nephew of the Commander, he does not speak very much Trade yet, and is deaf, so you will not be able to tell him any of your lies.” Zevran’s voice was teasing as he said it.

Stories.

Fenris’ eyes widened slightly and he hurried back to the parlour, stopping in the door to stare.

It was.

“Broody?”

“You know each other?” Zevran looked a little surprised, but pleased. Fenris came forward, stopping just short of Varric and smiled, a real smile.

“Hello dwarf.”

“It’s good to see you! I thought you had headed to Antiva?” Varric came forward and clasped wrists with the elf, obviously very pleased.

“That was the original plan... it didn’t work out quite that way,” Fenris said with a small grin. “What are you doing here? I thought you stayed in Kirkwall to help Aveline?”

“I had an offer come through from a friend in Denerim, so I took a trip. Did some time in Orlais with Birdie here,” Varric thumbed at Zevran, “and... well let’s just say the Divine didn’t like me very much and I was coming back this way to talk with my friend in Denerim. Birdie sent me a message telling me to meet him here before we’d go on to Denerim together... You’re going to have to tell me this story of how you missed getting to Antiva.”

“Some other time, it’s long,” Fenris said, sitting down.

“I can tell. You’re wearing Warden armour.”

“I am a Warden now.”

“Heh, now you and Blondie have even more in common than before.”

Fenris flushed slightly, looking away from the dwarf and toward the room where Anders was sleeping.

“You have no idea,” he mumbled and then smirked and looked back at the dwarf. “Have you heard anything about the mage?”

“Just rumours in Orlais. Many of which I made up myself,” Varric replied with a shrug and a grin.

“What if I told you he’s in the next room, sleeping?” Fenris said, and was pleased at the reaction he received as Varric moved over to the door between the rooms to look.

“Holy shit, Broody!” Varric turned and looked at the elf with wide, amused eyes. “How’d you do that?”

“Part of that long story you want me to tell.”

Zevran raised his eyebrows and looked around the room curiously at all involved. “What am I missing here?”

“Blondie in there is the Commander?”

Zevran, Fenris and Connor all nodded together. Varric began to laugh.

“Andraste’s tits, that man is still crazy. I love it! Zevran, you know that crazy apostate I told you about that blew up the Chantry?” Varric pointed into the bedroom. “That’s him.”

“Anders? You never told me that was his name!” Zevran blinked, then grinned and laughed. “I knew I adored that man!”

Fenris bristled slightly and looked away to see how Tomas was doing, not wanting to see Varric’s piercing gaze. The dwarf always saw too much and made up the worst things.

_Dear Maker,_

_I am glad that Varric is well. Thank you._

_I still want you to gag the elf. He is driving me mad._

_Wake Anders soon or I’m going to toss him out into a snowbank._

_~Fenris_


	3. Chapter 3

“And then he said, ‘The cat did it’!”

Anders opened his eyes groggily, the sounds of raucous laughter coming from the next room ringing in his ears. He frowned, noting that he was no longer on a cot, and the ship wasn’t rocking. In fact, it was a rather soft bed. He shifted slightly and found Tomas was curled around his arm, hugging him like a teddy bear.

He carefully untangled himself from his nephew and sat up, looking around the room. It was dark outside, but busy. He could hear the familiar sounds of a busy city outside. Which meant they were in Amaranthine.

The voices in the next room were laughing loudly again and Anders got up, running a hand through his hair. He had apparently lost the tie somewhere between Cumberland and Ferelden. He opened the door between the two rooms and saw Zevran, Connor, and Fenris sitting around a familiar chest of hair.

“Varric?”

“Blondie! Finally awake, I see.”

“...Are you sure I’m awake?” Anders looked around the room suspiciously for a moment, just in case it was the Fade.

“Yes, you’re awake,” Fenris said with a sigh. “It’s too late to leave for the Keep, I suppose?”

“You’ve been asleep since we arrived in Amaranthine yesterday evening,” Zevran told him, smiling. “We thought you would awaken this morning, but the potion you drank must have been very potent.”

“It would have to be, unless you wanted me clawing a hole into the side of the ship, or jumping off the deck at some point,” Anders replied, slightly irritated. He could tell by the sullen expression on Fenris’ face that the Antivan had not stopped teasing the elf about their previous relationship. “What time is it?”

“Probably an hour or so after sunset, why?”

“We can get back to the Keep before midnight if we leave now,” Anders said, stretching his long limbs.

“There’s four feet of snow out there,” Varric pointed out distastefully.

“The roads will be clear by now. The first snow would have been over a month ago,” Anders replied. “It’s a three hour walk from here to the Keep. The moon is out, and with the snow, there’ll be plenty of light.”

“Zevran procured horses,” Connor said, brightening a bit and standing as well.

“Then it’ll be an hour and a half at the most,” Anders replied, glancing around the room. “I’ve already made Nate wait long enough.”

“You don’t want to sit and talk to me?” Varric said, mock pouting at the mage and putting a hand over his heart. Anders blinked and frowned.

“Aren’t you coming?”

Varric shook his head and Zevran stood up. “I’m afraid I am not either, my friend. At least, not at the moment. Varric and I have to catch a ship to Denerim for some business, but perhaps we will be able to come visit after the business is concluded, yes?”

“Definitely. I have to talk to Blondie about the veracity of the stories Broody was telling me,” Varric said with a grin.

“Stories?”

“Here are the vouchers for the horses I acquired,” Zevran said, handing some papers over to Anders, who took them absently, still looking at Fenris.

“What stories?”

“Shall we?” Fenris said, standing as well, and looking much happier than he had since Zevran had come into Anders’ room back in the Anderfels.

“You’re ignoring me.”

“Connor, will you get Tomas? I’ll make sure the packs are ready,” Fenris said, definitely ignoring the mage.

“I know something that will get his attention,” Zevran whispered to Anders, grinning.

“Huh?” Anders turned his head toward the Antivan, who pulled him down and kissed him very thoroughly. In fact, Anders was pretty sure he hadn’t been kissed like that for many, _many_ years.

He heard stomping coming from the direction Fenris had been standing, then the slamming of a bedroom door behind him before Zevran let him go with a laugh.

“Damn Blondie, I need details when I come back. That elf has got it so bad, and I need to know how you did it considering the last time I saw you two together, he was planning how exactly he wanted to kill you.”

“Huh?” Anders blinked dazedly at the dwarf, very confused about what just happened.

“There are puppy-eyes,” Connor confirmed, nodding as he finished packing one of the sacks on the floor and moved to another. “And lots of daggers. If looks could kill, I think Zevran would be a corpse an hundred times over already.”

Anders started to blush and stammer some sort of excuse, certainly not ready to admit that he cared about the elf a great deal - at least, not to other people. He wondered if they knew about the kiss in Hossberg - the one that Connor had interrupted when Zevran arrived with the letter from Nate.

The door behind them opened again and Fenris came out carrying Tomas and pointedly ignoring them all.

“I guess this is goodbye again Blondie, hopefully we’ll be back in a few weeks,” Varric replied, patting the mage on the back and grinning. “Besides, I think you still owe me some money from the last time we played cards.”

Anders groaned and shook his head before patting Varric’s shoulder with a smile. He would have left it at that, but of course Zevran needed to make a scene again. Anders found himself gazing at the ceiling for a moment as the elf _dipped_ him. He swayed when he was upright again, not even having imagined that Zevran would have the strength to do that with someone of his size.

“Goodbye Broody!” Varric called as Anders heard more stomping and then more slamming of doors. Connor started to laugh but turned it into a cough as Anders glared in his direction.

“Zevran, remind me that I owe you a kick in the balls at some point,” Anders replied, grabbing his pack and Fenris’ pack before chasing the elf out the door. Connor waved and grinned before following behind the mage. It was going to be an extremely amusing ride to the Keep.


	4. Chapter 4

The ride did ended up only taking an hour. The main roads had been well cleared by carts and horses, so there wasn’t much snow to trudge through to get to the Keep. It helped that the moonlight was reflecting off of the snow that was there to brighten their path as well. Fenris wouldn’t speak to him throughout the whole ride, keeping ahead and ignoring all attempts to draw him into conversation.

Anders was going to kill Zevran the next time he saw the elf.

He was glad when the Keep walls began to loom before them, though he frowned when he saw the shanty town that seemed to have built up since they’d last been there. Between the refugees in Amaranthine and this, it was no wonder Nathaniel wanted him back.

As they came through the gates, the stable hands ran to take their horses and help them down. Anders noticed that the stairs up to the main hall had a handful of people standing on them, appearing to be arguing with the guards. He frowned as he dismounted and walked over to Connor.

“Can you take Tomas in and put him in my room for now? We’ll figure out accommodations for him later,” Anders said, to which Connor nodded and handed the sleeping child down so he could dismount as well.

“Use the stable-side entrance,” Fenris advised as the stable hands led their horses off. “Then go to bed.”

“Yes, mother,” Connor retorted, but did as he was told, carrying the young boy after the horses so they wouldn’t have to push through the angry people on the stairs. 

Anders watched the people for a moment, noting that there seemed to be a dark-haired woman in charge at the front of the group, talking passionately with her hands to the guards. He sighed, reached back to tighten his hair tie, brushed as much dirt and snow off of his uniform as he could manage, and walked forward.

“James, what’s going on here?” Anders said, as he climbed the stairs, addressing the guard in front. The man frowned and looked at Anders, squinting in the dim torchlight before brightening with relief.

“Commander! Thank the Maker you’re back, Nathaniel will be glad to see you, ser.”

“Yes, I’m sure he will, now why are these people standing on the steps in the cold?”

“Commander? Then it’s you I wish to speak to! I’ve been trying to get an audience with that black-haired fellow for two days!”

Anders turned to look at the woman who had been speaking, and heard Fenris breathe in sharply behind him in surprise. The mage had very little time to process the situation before the woman gasped in surprise as well and suddenly the courtyard with ringing with the sound of her hand connecting very firmly with his face.

He blinked in shock, finding his gaze turned forcibly to the front gates, as the initial numbness began to give way to the burning pain of having just been slapped very hard.

“ _You_! I can’t - I mean - How _dare_ \- You _stupid ass_ ,” she tried to say, her voice shaking with rage.

“Er... Hello Lirene,” Fenris said behind him with a small cough. Anders closed his eyes, knowing now that he had deserved that strike and tried to school his face despite the pain.

“Let them inside, James,” Anders said carefully. “Get them something to eat.”

“Y-yes ser.”

James shuffled the small group inside, leaving Anders and Fenris on the cold steps alone for a moment. 

His face had already been somewhat numb from the cold while they’d been riding, and the pain was blooming down his neck and across to the other side of his face. His ear was ringing and he was pretty sure he had a large red handprint on his cheek. They stood in silence for a few seconds while Anders tried to relax. He wouldn’t try to dull the pain, he knew he deserved a lot worse than a smack and had gotten off pretty lightly so far.

“...Are you alright?” Fenris said finally, shuffling his feet and crossing his arms.

“...Yes, I’ll be fine,” Anders finally said and turned to enter the Keep. It had been enough time that Lirene and her entourage were not still in the Main Hall, so Anders made a beeline for his and Nate’s office with no fear of being followed by anyone other than Fenris.

The door was closed, but Anders didn’t bother to knock, opening the door and finding Nate and a dark haired woman scrambling to look like they weren’t doing what he’d just seen them doing and both blushing furiously. Anders stopped in the doorway and crossed his arms.

“....I see you’ve been getting along fairly well while I was gone.”

“What took you so long?” Nate demanded and Anders rolled his eyes.

“Oh shut up, Nathaniel, you’re not angry at me, in fact I know I’m back a full two-weeks earlier than you thought I’d be, so you’re just pissy that I caught you kissing someone on your desk.” Anders glanced at the woman and smirked. She was standing at attention, her eyes fixed very firmly at a spot behind his shoulder, but her cheeks were bright red.

“Why were there refugees on the doorstep harassing James?”

“What?” Nate blinked at Anders, most of his embarrassment and annoyance disappearing.

“A woman named Lirene, and four other men and women were on the steps demanding to speak to the Commander,” Fenris said, pushing Anders gently into the room and stepping in behind him.

“Oh Maker, her again?” Nate groaned and rested his head on the desk with a sigh.

“She had an audience with Comm-ermm... Co-Commander Howe four days ago, and has been requesting another audience three times a day, every day since then,” the woman said, finally looking Anders in the eyes.

“Anders, this is Cauthrien, she is a new recruit. Cauth, this is the Commander I told you about, Anders, and the elf is Fenris.”

She saluted them both formally, which made Anders wince. “Warden Cauthrien, you can relax or sit down or something. I’m not that big on military discipline, and I did just see you with your tongue down Nate’s throat, so I think we can dispense with the titles?”

Cauthrien blushed furiously again, but stood more at ease, making Anders feel better for her spine. “What has Lirene been asking for?”

“Things we don’t have - food and shelter for the refugees. We’ve done all we can conceivably do right now, but she won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Anders sat down with a sigh and then looked over at Fenris with a tired smile. “You can go to bed, you know.”

“Uh... about that,” Nathaniel said, looking uncomfortable and fidgeting a little in his seat. “Part of the shelter thing we’ve been doing is giving every available space in the castle with a fireplace to the elderly, families with children, and invalids. I’m afraid Fenris’ room was handed out since he wasn’t here to enjoy it. We’ve also been doubling up in every room possible. The barracks have bunk beds now and we moved as many soldiers and wardens into the same space as possible. Even the cellars and dungeons are being filled with blankets and lights - they’re not as well ventilated, but we’re doing the best we can to keep them warm.”

“...So where do I sleep then?” Fenris asked irritably. Nate glanced at Anders and then coughed. 

“I figured you could share with Anders.”

The elf began to bristle before Anders put a hand on his arm to calm him. “We’ve shared before Fenris. Go find Connor and get our packs and Tomas, we’ll figure something out.”

The elf looked for a moment as if he would argue, but snapped his mouth shut and glared at the rogue as he stalked out of the room. Anders pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

“Okay, so we’ve got refugees and farmers in the castle, refugees and farmers building shanty-towns outside the castle, refugees and farmers building shanty towns outside Amaranthine, and more arriving in the city every day, correct?”

“Basically. We thought we could expand the city, but it started to snow the day after you left and has been too cold to try and do any permanent building. we cleared out as much of the warehouses as we could, put some ventilation into the roofs and started packing people in there too, but we’re quickly running out of space.”

“You think of closing the harbour to any more refugees?”

“Yes, we’ve already had guards down there directing any new ships to divert to Highever, Denerim, Jader, or even Gwaren if they can and try to give them enough supplies to make the extra journey if we have them to spare.”

“Well, Lirene is going to want to speak with us, but I can’t handle talking to her right now. She hates my guts as it is, and I’m too tired to deal with that at the moment. I have some ideas of what to do with the mages in the castle at least, and that will hopefully give us more space for others. If where I want to send them is big enough, we may be able to send some of the farmers and any refugee craftsmen with them.”

“Where is this?” Nathaniel asked, eyebrows perking up.

“Somewhere called Soldier’s Peak. It’s between here and Denerim, an old Grey Warden outpost that Feyar cleared of demons a long time ago, from what Zevran said.”

“I know of that place.” Cauthrien turned to the map behind Nate’s desk and traced a finger along the mountains before tapping a spot. “It’s there, but it’s impossible to get in. There is a labyrinth of passages and ice to get through.”

“Well apparently Feyar got through it. Maybe she left notes. If all else fails, I know that Zevran knows the way and he’s in Amaranthine right now. We can send a note to him for directions before he leaves.”

“What about Oghren? Didn’t he travel with the Hero?”

Nathaniel and Anders looked at each other and then started to laugh. A moment later, Cauthrien snorted as well, realising how ridiculous it was to think that Oghren might actually remember how to get there.

“Alright. I’m going to bed. Cauthrien, can you tell Lirene that we will see her in the morning? I want to go over what’s been done and the current situation with Nathaniel first thing so I have some idea of what to tell her we can and can’t do when I see her.”

The woman nodded and smiled at Nathaniel before leaving the room. Anders grinned at the rogue for a moment and waggled his eyebrows.

“Her name is Cauthrien, eh? Pretty. Looks older than you.”

“She is. She’s your age,” Nathaniel said, straightening the things on his desk with as much dignity as he could manage as he tried to ignore the mage.

“Ouch. So is she sharing a room with you?”

“That’s none of your business,” Nathaniel snapped, glaring at Anders before standing up.

“I think it is. Our rooms are adjoined by a bathroom and a parlour. I’d like to know the sort of noises I should expect-”

“What about you and Fenris?” 

Anders winced, noting Nathaniel’s look of triumph at having gotten him back. “There’s nothing there, and there won’t be anything there,” he replied softly before standing up.

“Goodnight Nate.”

“I’m sure you’re being melo-”

“Don’t. Just don’t. Goodnight.”

Anders turned and left the room sullenly, closing the door on Nathaniel behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for descriptions of depression.

Unluckily - or perhaps luckily - Anders was accosted by Seneschal Varel when he left Nathaniel’s office and was dragged off to Varel’s office to discuss some of the things he’d missed. He was brought up to date on the situation of the Keep and the City, as well as the farms surrounding, despite his protests that he had a meeting with Nate in the morning to discuss all of these things.

It was nearing midnight when Varel finally handed him a stack of envelopes. The one on top was from the Queen. Anders sighed and looked up at the Seneschal, who was probably a lot more tired than he was at the moment.

“Nathaniel took the liberty of opening the one from the Queen,” Varel said, his voice soft. He closed the door to his office then, making sure no one would hear him. “She wishes you to come to Denerim at your earliest convenience.”

Anders rubbed his eyes and pulled the letter out of the opened envelope, trying to focus on the handwriting.

“We have enough to deal with here, don’t we? I can’t go running off to Denerim.”

“Perhaps you could go with the group that you wish to install into Soldier’s Peak, ser? Get them settled and go on to Denerim to see the Queen?” Varel suggested, waiting for Anders to finish reading the letter.

“I... Don’t really understand what I just read, Varel,” he admitted, looking over it again with a furrowed brow and tired eyes. “This can’t wait until the morning?”

“She is going to publicly confirm you as the Arl of Amaranthine, Ser. To the Landsmeet.”

“...Oh. Is that all?” He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of his chair. “Shall we paint a target on my forehead now or later, do you think?”

“Very funny, Ser,” Varel said, his voice dry and his eyes rolling to the side.

“I’m not joking, Varel,” Anders replied, opening his eyes and standing up. He stretched his spine, hearing a few pops, and looked at the pile of letters in his hand again. “I’m a mage still, remember? And the Rebel Healer of Kirkwall. The Divine already wants my head. I seriously doubt the other nobles will agree to this. Mages aren’t allowed to hold lands.”

“Enchanter Wilhelm did,” Varel pointed out, smiling in satisfaction at Anders’ confused expression. “He fought with King Maric during the uprising against Orlais. He held lands in a small town called Honnleath. Had a family. Was granted ‘special dispensation’ by the King for his work in the rebellion.”

“He wasn’t given an arling though.”

Varel sighed and conceded, “No, he did not have a title.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Connor went through the Joining while we were in Weisshaupt.”

“What?”

“That’s what I said. He didn’t tell anyone until Fenris saw him lining up with the other recruits and choking down the blood. I think I’ll make Nate tell Lady Isolde.”

Anders smiled to himself at the thought of the tongue-lashing Nathaniel would get from that woman when she found out. “I’ll see you in a few hours Varel. Mistress Lirene has an audience in the morning and she is not a woman to be kept waiting.”

The mage went to the door and opened it, stopping in the archway for a moment and looking at Varel thoughtfully for a moment. “Has Mistress Woolsey been replaced yet?”

“No ser.”

“If she doesn’t kill me first, Lirene would make a fantastic replacement,” he told the seneschal who just frowned as Anders left the room, making his way toward his bed.

When he reached the door, he opened it and found that the parlour was much changed from the last time he’d walked through it. There was someone sleeping on the divan, Sigrun appeared to be sleeping in a chair. Velanna was curled up in a hammock hanging in one corner, and there were at least two other wardens in cots against the walls. He sighed and walked as quietly as possible through the room and into his own bedroom. Here he found Connor and Tomas asleep on his bed and Fenris curled into a chair by the fire with a blanket.

Anders put the letters he’d been carrying down on the small table near the window and looked around. There was nowhere for him to sleep except the floor. Defeated, he opened the chest at the foot of his bed and rummaged around for supplies before going into the bathroom.

At least he could take a bath. Then he only needed to be up again in five hours. He was sure he could find something to read in the library until then.

The library was full of sleeping people as well, cots set up between the bookshelves. The mess hall was similarly set up. He finally had fallen asleep on a bench in the main hall - the only room not filled with people on cots it seemed.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but after the ride from Amaranthine, the news Nathaniel had, the long hours with Varel and then the search of the Keep to find somewhere to at least sit and relax for a moment (his office had been out of the question - that place was never on his list of ‘relaxing’ places in the Keep), he had just sat down and the next thing he knew he was being shaken awake.

Anders opened one eye and winced in the light. His back and shoulders were killing him and he groaned in pain at the popping and cracking joints as he moved and eventually stood up. Nathaniel had been the one shaking him, and the rogue kindly waited until he’d stretched and sent a little healing magic into his joints before dragging him to the front of the room with pursed lips.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Varel told me he updated you a bit last night, but there was more you needed to know. We’ll have to discuss it after this though. Lirene is waiting in the next room for permission from Varel to enter and speak with us. Maker you look a mess.” Nate tried to help Anders straighten his clothes and brush out his hair with his fingers, but it didn’t do very much good in the end.

“Just leave it, she’ll feel better if I look miserable,” Anders said, finally swatting Nate’s hands away and gesturing to Varel to let the woman in.

Lirene was looking better than she had the previous evening, she had warmer clothing on, had been fed, and probably bathed. She came into the room with a purposeful stride before stopping in front of the two Wardens. She curtsied slightly to Nathaniel and ignored Anders completely for the moment.

“I have been attempting to get an audience with you for days now, Warden Howe,” she said reproachfully. Anders smiled slightly, recognising the tone of voice she used to use on customers and possible donors for her Ferelden refugee funds.

“Yes Mistress um... Lirene,” Nate glanced at Anders and licked his lips. “I’m sure after spending the night in the Keep you can see that we are very busy here. I apologise that I could not see you. However, now that the Commander is back-”

“Commander,” she snorted, pronouncing the word the way some people might say ‘cockroach’. “I do not wish to speak with _him_ , I wish to speak with _you_.”

“I’m afraid he is who makes the decisions around here,” Nathaniel told her, looking at Anders again. The mage pinched his brow and sighed, looking up at Lirene.

“Look, Lirene. I know you hate me right now and you don’t want to speak with me, but we’re going to have to deal with each other while you’re here, so tell me what you need,” he said, finally getting her attention from Nathaniel, who seemed grateful not to be under her ireful gaze any longer.

“I will not speak to you, murderer,” she spat in reply. Anders winced slightly at the word and looked at his feet, unable to meet her eyes.

The room was deadly silent for a heartbeat, the sounds of the courtyard suddenly very clear. He didn’t know how to reply to that. He already hated himself enough for all the things that had happened and for the first time in a while he could feel Justice stirring separately from himself. It had been necessary. That’s what he tried to tell himself, that’s what Justice had told him, and perhaps Justice was right in that, but it didn’t make him feel any better about it. It didn’t make him feel any less guilty for the people who had been in the Chantry that evening who died. For the brothers and sisters, the acolytes and unconfirmed. The few who had gone for confession and prayer that evening.

In one of his darker moods he had sat and tried to calculate it. The best number he’d come up with had been forty. At least forty people had died. Possibly more. Of course that hadn’t been counting how many more had died in the resulting battle between the mages and the templars. Civilians, nobles, criminals, and guards. In fact, the only place that had been left completely intact was, ironically, Darktown.

“I knew people that died in that building, Anders. People who died in the fighting that followed. So did you. Mistress Selby was in the Chantry that night. Maria was too.”

Anders’ throat was beginning to tighten painfully as she spoke, his eyes still firmly set on the ground. Mistress Selby had helped the mage underground often, and Maria had been the woman who worked the counter for Lirene’s shop. He could feel the prickle of tears in the corners of his eyes and he closed them quickly, trying to keep himself from crying. He needed to be calm and collected right now. He was the Commander of Vigil’s Keep now regardless of what had happened in the past.

Unfortunately, the darkness was hard to reason with.

“Lirene, did you not help the mage underground while you were in Kirkwall?”

Anders looked up suddenly, eyes opening, fighting through the constricting darkness that was settling over him. It was Fenris.

She turned around to face the elf, who crossed his arms and waited patiently for her reply.

“Yes, I did,” she finally said, holding her chin high and straightening her posture proudly.

“Then you know what injustices the mages of Kirkwall suffered under Meredith, do you not?”

“I... I did, yes.” She seemed a little more unsure now, confused at his line of questioning.

“Then you also know that Anders did everything he could up until that point to avoid violence.”

She didn’t respond to that, glancing back at him, her features softening very slightly. He must have looked incredibly miserable, he thought, if she was starting to actually feel bad.

Fenris walked closer, bringing himself level with her. “If you know the stories that Varric told, then you know that Anders and myself did not see eye-to-eye on many things, and were at the best... civil to each other.” She nodded. “Know then, that I currently follow him of my own will. He has done many things that I do not approve of or agree with, but he is still basically the same man he was before all of this began. He is doing his best here to help all that he can, and his efforts have made others see that he is worth following as well. You do not have to forgive him, but if you wish to continue here in Amaranthine, then you will have to be civil and abide by his rulings.”

She pursed her lips again and looked away from Fenris, gazing at the miserable mage before her instead. He was sure she was going to hit him again, or at least yell more, but she didn’t. Instead she handed Nathaniel a sheet of paper.

“This is a list of the necessities that are needed in the camp outside the Keep. I’m sure the city has a similar need as well. If it is possible to address them, please let me know. I have told Seneschal Varel where my abode can be found.”

Nathaniel looked at the list briefly and glanced at Anders, who nodded numbly. “Alright Mistress Lirene. We thank you for bringing these to us. We will try to find a solution to the needs as quickly as possible.”

She nodded tersely and glanced at Fenris for a moment before following Varel out. The three stood in silence for a moment before Nathaniel folded the paper noisily and coughed.

“Well, I guess we should go get a start on this list, eh Anders?” Nate said, patting the mage on the shoulder. Anders tried to rally himself, swallowing and straightening. He had been so busy lately, he had not had time to worry about the darkness. It had brushed him lightly a few times over the past few months, but he hadn’t felt the overall crushing weight of it since Fenris had gotten his eyesight back, many months ago.

“Yes,” he croaked, and coughed before repeating himself. “Yes, let’s get this out of the way or she’ll harass us until we do.”

“We can just have Varel keep her out, if it comes to that,” Nathaniel said with a smile, hoping to lighten Anders’ sudden melancholy.

He smiled slightly at the rogue, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “That will be difficult. I told Varel to give her Woolsey’s job.”

Anders didn’t wait to see their surprised expressions, needing to get out of that oppressive room as quickly as possible.


	6. Chapter 6

He wandered the Keep idly. When he’d woken up that morning, Nate had been pounding on the door, looking for Anders. It had surprised him not to find Anders there somewhere, so he’d gotten up and assisted in looking around for the mage. Connor had taken Tomas to the nursery, though Fenris wasn’t sure how long that would last. He still didn’t understand the Trade tongue very well, and a room full of people would probably overwhelm him.

Fenris pursed his lips as he thought about it, leaning on the balustrade overlooking part of the courtyard. It was busy down there, people rushing about, lines forming for food and other things. Anders had a lot of work ahead, between the movement of the mages to Soldier’s Peak and the dealing with the refugees.

Above, the snow started to fall again, sending the elf back inside to keep warm. He made his way back toward the main hall, hoping to find something to do, or perhaps read. The room was full to bursting with people who were all wanting to see the two men sitting at the front of the room with Varel, Captain Garavel, and he noticed Lirene was standing near the back on Nathaniel’s side. It seemed she was perhaps going to accept the position as Treasurer that had been offered.

He watched Anders for a while, seeing how tired the mage was even though he forced a smile for each person that came to him with a problem. It surprised Fenris to realise that he recognised the smile. In fact, the more he thought about it, he could read much of Anders’ mood from the way he was sitting or smiling. He’d come to know the mage very well in the past months.

 _Months?_ It had been almost a year now. They’d left Kirkwall in mid-spring, and he and Anders had fallen together in Alamar only a few weeks after. The new year was only a few weeks away. 

Fenris gazed over at Anders, brow furrowing slightly, gnawing on his lower lip. He thought about what had happened in Anders’ room at Hossberg. He’d never actually been kissed before that he could remember. Not like that. 

Danarius would kiss his forehead or the top of his head sometimes, when he’d been good or done something Danarius liked, but the feel of lips against his, a tongue teasing him...

He swallowed and flushed brightly when he noticed Anders was looking at him. Fenris straightened and marched out of the room a little haughtily. He was still angry with the stupid mage, though he wasn’t exactly sure why.

The Antivan elf’s attentions to Anders made his stomach churn and his head hurt. Which just confused him more, since he didn’t care about what the mage did or who he did it with.

Right?

_Dear Maker,_

_Stop making things so confusing._

He stopped, leaning against the wall and touching his lips absently, thinking about dry chapped lips and the smell of elfroot and ink.

“This is ridiculous!” He straightened and huffed, stomping down the hallway to the rooms he had to share. At least there he’d be out of everyone’s way. Maybe he’d draw or read.

He would definitely not sit about mooning over a stupid kiss from an even stupider mage.


	7. Chapter 7

It was a few hours after dark had fallen when Anders finally was able to get away from everything. He found the parlour empty for now, but the cots had been set up for the people who’d be sleeping there again. Anders sighed and went into his bedroom, finding that only Fenris was there, sitting at the table with parchment and charcoal. Anders smiled when the elf looked up, the charcoal marks on his face were adorable.

“Where are Connor and Tomas?” he asked, closing the door behind him as Fenris shuffled the parchments and rolled them up hastily.

“Connor took him to the nursery this morning to be with the other children,” Fenris said, trying to wipe the charcoal off of his hands by rubbing them on his trousers. “He said he found a cot in the barracks for himself.”

“So, just us then?” Anders noted the slight flush that creeped up the elf’s cheeks as he nodded. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For what you said to Lirene. She accepted the Treasurer position. She still won’t speak to me, but I know she’ll get things worked out for us through Nate.”

Anders sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling at his boots. “I’m sorry you’re stuck in here with me. I’m sure you’re sick of my face by now.”

When Fenris didn’t say anything, Anders looked up from his boots to find the elf staring at him. His brow was furrowed and he looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back.

“What?” He raised an eyebrow at the elf and finished pulling his boots off, stretching his legs out a little as Fenris pushed away from the table and walked over to him. Anders looked up at the elf with a curious expression, he could see an internal battle of some kind was occurring.

“Why did you kiss me?” Fenris finally blurted, before his cheeks began to turn a light shade of pink that Anders could see, even in the dim firelight of the room. He looked down at his feet and began to peel his heavy woolen socks off, trying to decide how exactly to respond.

“Because I wanted to,” he finally said. He could hear Fenris make a frustrated noise as he rolled his socks up and tossed them into the small basket that the servants left for dirty laundry near the door.

“That is not an answer. Why... Why did you want to? I don’t understand why you did it. I... It’s been bothering me.”

“I’m sorry,” Anders replied, now focusing on unbuckling the heavy padding around his torso. It had been uncomfortable to sit in his Warden armour all day while talking to people, but Varel had insisted it made both he and Nathaniel look more serious. “We can pretend it didn’t happen, if that would make you feel better.”

He glanced up carefully while he unbuckled his armour, pulling it over his head and letting it fall onto the floor next to the bed. Anders could see the confusion and embarrassment on Fenris’ face, and it made his stomach drop. He had wanted to talk to the elf about the kiss, but then Zevran had come, and made things more awkward, and he was asleep on the boat, then they got here and there had been no time to talk.

Anders had been somewhat hoping for a better response than this though.

“Why... I... Will you tell me what is going through that idiotic mind of yours, please?” Fenris finally snapped and knelt down on the floor in front of Anders, trying to get the mage to look at him directly. 

“I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen... I just...” he ran a hand through his hair and looked at the fire for a moment with pursed lips. “I just want to understand.”

The darkness had been kept at bay most of the day. There had been no time to mull over Lirene’s earlier words when he had a long line of people to talk to and solve problems for. Now, it was creeping up on him again as he looked at the elf. Those large, green eyes staring up at him with frustration and confusion. At first, he had been relieved that his room was not empty - he wouldn’t be alone in it to think. Now, he could feel the darkness gripping his heart - a tightness in his chest and throat as he realised he’d probably ruined the only real friendship he had right now somehow.

“It was an impulse. It won’t happen again, so you don’t have to worry about it,” Anders replied, his voice was hoarse. Fenris growled in annoyance and stood up again, taking a step away from Anders.

“Will you stop avoiding answering me? You... you are a friend to me, Anders. I know we don’t always agree or get along, but it occurred to me that it has been almost a year since we left Kirkwall and I feel... much differently about you than I used to.” Fenris sighed and turned to face Anders again.

Anders hesitated and then stood up, picking up his armour and putting it on the stand in the corner. He pulled his hair out of the tie and ran a hand through it.

“I should probably take a bath. Sitting in that armour all day was hot business.” He smiled half-heartedly at Fenris, stepping toward the door that led to the bathroom that he shared with Nathaniel, but Fenris wasn’t going to allow his escape or avoidance and moved quickly to intercept him. Anders found himself caught and spun, being pressed against the wall roughly.

“Stop it. Just... Just stop. I... I am not good at speaking of... of things like this, Anders, and you are avoiding me. You were so... so angry that your family thought we were lovers, and yet you kissed me. Then Zevran was pawing you and... and kissing you and you did not seem to enjoy it, and now you will not answer me when I ask you. _Please_ , Anders.”

He leaned his head back against the wall and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to see Fenris’ face when he said this. He didn’t want to ruin something that had become important to him - more important than even he had realised - over the past months.

“...I kissed you because I care about you,” he said finally, wincing as he felt the elf’s grip on his arms tighten slightly. “I was angry that my family thought we were lovers because I was scared it would push you away and ruin the tenuous friendship we’ve begun since leaving Kirkwall. I... wanted to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, actually. I always thought you were attractive, from the moment Hawke introduced us - at least until you opened your mouth.”

Fenris snorted softly and the grip on his arms was lessened a little, Anders still didn’t open his eyes though, it was easier to say these things without seeing Fenris looking at him.

“I’m sorry for ruining that. Please, we can just pretend it didn’t happen, and-”

Anders’ eyes opened suddenly as he was cut off. Fenris had pulled his head down by his collar and pressed their lips together.

It was an awkward kiss; Fenris had mashed their noses together a little too hard, which made it difficult to breathe, but Anders didn’t care. He pulled away from the wall, hands reaching up to cup the elf’s face. Anders pulled back a tiny bit, giving them both a chance to take a breath before tilting his head slightly and catching Fenris with his mouth open. The elf made a surprised noise but relaxed, letting the mage lead.

He slid his tongue alongside Fenris’, slowly exploring and tasting. Fenris tasted like... lyrium and a hint of wine. It was a heady combination and Anders deepened the kiss, wanting more. He could feel the grip on his collar tighten and a hand reach into his hair and then he was being pulled forward, away from the wall. There was a moment of disorientation as he was maneuvered around by Fenris, their lips still locked together, before he felt the press of the bed against the back of his legs. He let himself fall back, pulling Fenris with him. 

Fenris pulled away then, levering himself on his elbows above Anders, both of them panting softly. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were a little swollen, a look that made the mage’s cock twitch with interest.

“You’re an idiot,” Fenris said finally, licking his lips and then rolling to the side to lay on his back next to Anders.

“You were kissing an idiot, what does that make you?” Anders retorted.

“Also an idiot, probably,” Fenris replied and pulled himself up and off of the bed. “I am going to get some dinner, you want me to bring you some?”

He was a little disappointed that Fenris wasn’t going to stay in the bed and let him explore every inch of skin with his mouth (an idea that made his cock twitch again), but he sat up and nodded. He hadn’t had much to eat that day and he was pretty hungry now that he thought about it.

Fenris smiled slightly and then leaned down, hesitating a moment before giving Anders a light kiss. “We will talk when I return. You may want to take the time to bathe, you smell like wet wool.”

“Thanks,” Anders replied drily, but when Fenris closed the door his cheeks were already hurting from smiling so broadly.


	8. Chapter 8

He hesitated at the door. Truth be told, Fenris was a little nervous now. They needed to talk, but part of him didn’t want to talk. Part of him wanted to pretend that everything was perfect as is and that it would be okay and that he shouldn’t tell Anders things Anders should hear because that might ruin everything when it had just started.

It was better to get it over with though, he knew, and to talk now at the beginning. It gave them an out, just in case this was a bad idea. He had bathed and ordered dinner and knew that he couldn’t put any of it off any longer without Anders getting worried or suspicious, so he pushed the door open and stepped back into the bedroom.

Anders was at the table eating, he’d taken a bath and looked up when Fenris came in. The elf closed the door behind him and sat himself in the chair opposite of the mage.

“What’s wrong?” Anders frowned slightly at him. He winced and looked at the food on the table - was he really so obvious?

“I just... we should talk about this... us... thing,” Fenris said, picking up a piece of bread and nibbling on it.

“Yes, you said that before. What did you want to talk about?”

Fenris fidgeted a little and put the bread down, looking up at Anders. “You... remember what I told you about... about Danarius and I?”

Anders nodded slowly, pushing his plate away and giving Fenris his full attention.

“I... just want us to both be on the same level if... if we do this. Whatever it is.”

“That’s reasonable,” Anders agreed and folded his hands. He looked at the mage’s hands and swallowed nervously. How did one talk about these things? He could see that Anders was nervous about what he was going to say or ask by the way the mage was sitting with his back straight and his jaw tight.

“I... I don’t really know how to talk about this,” Fenris admitted and tried to smile at Anders. “I just... don’t want uncomfortable surprises.”

Anders smiled back, it was a little tight around the edges but he didn’t seem upset or angry. “Well, I don’t want to assume that we’ll have sex at some point - it’d be nice, obviously, but whatever happens will happen and at it’s own pace - is that alright?”

Fenris relaxed a little and nodded.

“I hope that our current relationship will continue as is... just add kissing.” Anders grinned slightly and Fenris rolled his eyes. “Is there anything you know you don’t like?”

“...I don’t know,” Fenris replied with a slight frown. “As I told you before, Danarius is the only relationship I remember and that was...”

“Special circumstances,” Anders finished for him with a nod. “Well, I’ll say this. If I ever do or say or touch or anything at all that makes you uncomfortable and you don’t like, tell me immediately and I will stop. It’s alright for you to not like something, okay?”

“Okay,” Fenris replied and leaned back in his chair, relaxing more. Anders understood these things sort of. He picked up a cup of water and took a sip from it.

“In that vein, I do not like being restrained or blindfolded,” Anders said, snickering when Fenris almost spit out the water in his mouth. He could feel his cheeks heating as the idea of Anders being tied up and blindfolded flitted through his mind.

“What was between the Antivan and you?” Fenris asked, hoping the subject change would clear his mind. He noticed Anders hesitate.

“We... used to sleep together,” Anders said, poking at the food on his plate again.

“You were lovers?”

“No. Definitely not lovers. Just... people who liked to have sex with each other occasionally,” Anders looked up at him as he spoke. Fenris could tell from his expression that he was serious about that. “I’ve... never actually had a... um... lover, I guess. I’ve slept with a lot of people. People I considered friends too... Relationships were not allowed in the Circle, and then in the Wardens I was just... Anyway, when I got to Kirkwall, there was too much else to worry about.”

Fenris nodded in understanding. He had only known Danarius, and after that he’d been on the run, no time for relationships; and in Kirkwall... well Anders would be his first real relationship, and he didn’t want to mess it up.

“Will you tell me about... about those scars?” Fenris met Anders’ eyes briefly before the mage looked away, stiffening.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw them... in Weisshaupt. You’d fallen asleep in the bed with no shirt and I saw your scars. The ones on your back and the one on your chest.” Fenris frowned, not liking that Anders was avoiding him now. “I’m surprised you lived through that one.”

Anders put a hand to his head and sighed softly. “I... would rather not talk about them right now. I promise I will tell you someday though. When I’m ready.”

Fenris pursed his lips but nodded. He supposed he could understand not wanting to speak about certain things. Anders smiled at him before reaching across the table to touch his cheek gently.

“I’m very tired, as I didn’t sleep well last night, so I think I am going to bed,” Anders declared, pushing away from the table and standing. The mage looked at the bed and stretched before glancing at Fenris. He seemed to hesitate a moment. “Did... did you want to... share?”

Fenris took a moment to appreciate the blush spreading across the mage’s cheeks. This was just as new to Anders as it was to him, and it made him feel a little better that would be doing this together.

“Yes,” he replied, standing and following the mage to bed.


	9. Chapter 9

In the past week, Anders had started to get used to waking up with a warm weight curled around him. Sometimes it was Fenris, sometimes it was Tomas, and sometimes it was Pounce, though often it was all three in some form. So when he woke up that morning alone, he was a little muddled.

He sat up, rubbing his face and looking around the room. The sun was streaming through the window, which surprised him - usually Nathaniel was pounding on the door well before then. He pulled himself out of bed, creaking and cracking a little as he did so. Anders stretched and sent a little healing magic through his back, soothing some of his morning stiffness, and looked around the room for any sign of where Fenris and Tomas had gone.

There was a plate of bread and cheese on the table, which Anders began to nibble at as he searched for clean clothing. He pulled on a clean shirt and picked up his boots before walking out into the parlour. There he found Fenris and Tomas. They hadn’t seen him yet, for which he was glad, because they looked adorable.

The child was curled up on Fenris’ lap in a chair, and a large book was open in front of them. Coming a little closer, he recognised it as a book he’d found in the library a few days ago and had brought back for Tomas. It had a system of language that had been invented in Antiva sometime during the last Age that could be spoken with one’s hands. It was mostly used there by the Crows to pass information without everyone knowing what was said, but it had slowly been spreading to other countries as a way to communicate with the deaf. There was an alphabet and then other signs for common words. He thought it might be useful for the child as he learned the Trade tongue. 

Anders leaned against a chair and watched the two of them as Fenris silently made the gestures with his hands and Tomas mimicked them. He must’ve made some sort of noise because Fenris looked up then, glancing at him. Anders saw his cheeks and ears turn a slight pinkish colour before he lifted his chin defiantly. The mage only smiled at him and moved closer, sitting down on a stool opposite. 

“Good morning,” Anders said, waving his fingers at Tomas. The child smiled brightly at him and looked down at the book before slowly mimicking the pictures to say something. Anders looked at Fenris who gently corrected one of the motions before letting Tomas finish.

“He says ‘good morning’,” Fenris translated.

“I’m glad he’s making good use of the book. I’ll have to take a study through it when I have some time.” Anders yawned a little and covered his mouth before glancing around the room. It was all cleaned up from the people who had slept there the night before. “So what time is it? Nate usually doesn’t let me sleep this late.”

“You’ve been called to Denerim early. The Queen wants you there for First Day.”

“What?” Anders stood up and frowned. “That’s only two weeks away!”

“That’s why Nate let you sleep in.”

“He didn’t want me to kill him first thing in the morning? Chicken,” Anders murmured and sighed. “With the weather how it is, we’d have to leave tomorrow to get there in time... Well on the way back we can make use of Zevran’s directions and check out Soldier’s Peak.”

“You can tell the Queen about your idea to send the mages there as well. She might have some suggestions,” Fenris said, and picked Tomas up, placing the child back into the chair with the book and patting him on the head with a smile.

“Why did I agree to be Commander again?” Anders whined, turning a pout onto the elf. Fenris rolled his eyes and pulled Anders down for a light kiss.

“You didn’t. They bullied you into it.”

“That’s right. I forgot.”

“You do a pretty good job anyway,” Fenris pointed out with a slight smile.

“I suppose on the bright side, Nathaniel will have to stay here dealing with refugees and Lirene,” Anders replied, his pout disappearing as he enjoyed the smile turned on him. “Maybe I should take Cauthrien with me, just to make it even more horrible for him.”

“That’s not fair,” came a voice from the door. Anders turned to find Nathaniel crossing his arms and glaring at him. Fenris stepped away with a nervous cough and a blush creeping up to his ears.

“Such is life,” Anders said airily, turning away from the archer. “I’m going to take a bath. A long one. And only Fenris is invited.”

The elf’s blush darkened further and he moved over to Tomas, trying to busy himself with learning the signing language and definitely not looking at Anders or Nate.

“You’re leaving tomorrow morning. Fenris and Tomas are going with you, I assume. Do you want to take Connor so he can tell his mother he’s a Warden now?”

Anders stopped at the door and snorted, glancing back. “Yes. And Cauthrien. And Sigrun.”

“Why Cauthrien? She’s not particularly... uh... welcome, at Court.”

“Even better. They’ll be pissing at her instead of at me then. We should let the Queen know she’s joined. She might as well tell Anora herself. Besides, I want to get to know the woman banging my Co-Commander.” Anders grinned widely at the blush that spread across Nathaniel’s face.

“Fine, I’ll brief her and Connor.”

“I’ll bet you’ll ‘brief’ her.”

“Oh, shut up,” Nathaniel said and turned quickly, closing the door behind him. Anders snickered and glanced back at Fenris.

“Want to join me?”

“I’ll stay here with Tomas, thank you,” Fenris replied, obviously still embarrassed.

“Suit yourself. I’ll think of you.”

Anders managed to slip back into his bedroom and close the door before the chair cushion reached him.


	10. Chapter 10

“Why are we taking the roads? It would be more efficient to take a ship,” Cauthrien asked, looking at Fenris as they set up camp. The small group had been on the road for three days already, forging ahead through snow and ice along the Pilgrim’s Path to Denerim. The trip normally took a little over a week, but with the condition of the roads they would be lucky to get there in time for First Day.

Fenris looked up from the tent he was pitching and shrugged. He didn’t think it was his place to discuss Anders’ fears with other people, especially people who were supposed to take orders from Anders. At that moment, however, Anders came through the trees carrying a large bundle of wood, followed by Connor and Tomas.

“Because the Commander would like to be coherent when he has to meet the Queen,” Anders replied, dropping the pile and brushing his hands against the padding on his legs. “Connor, work with Tomas to get the fire started, try to teach him the control for a small flame. If it’s too hard, just let it go, but I want him to give it a try.”

Connor nodded and sat down on a stone with Tomas to show him how to make a flame in his hand. Anders watched for a moment before looking back at Cauthrien.

“I do not understand your joke, ser.”

He sighed and walked over, leaned down, and pulled on a tent rope to tie it around a peg. “I do not do well on ships, and as a result have to take sleeping draughts to keep myself... relaxed. The sleeping draughts are very strong and tend to leave me incapacitated and groggy for a while afterward. Besides which, I wanted to see the state of the roads. Connor and I can clear them a little to get some travel going for refugees and traders. We’re going to need the supplies from Denerim. It’s cheaper to ship them over land than over sea, and we need all the boats we can get out there fishing.”

He heard Fenris make a sound and smiled slightly.

“Anders, you talk too much. Why don’t you just tell the nice lady that you don’t like small spaces and ships are about as small as you can get?” Sigrun came marching through the trees carrying a couple of dead rabbits with her and raised her eyebrows.

“....Well, yes that,” Anders replied with pursed lips. He finished tying off the peg and looked over at Connor and Tomas, who were ready to start the fire. Tomas was holding a small flame in his hand, showing that he had figured out the control aspect fairly quickly.

An hour later, the fire was cheerily blazing, and they had all eaten the rabbits that Sigrun had caught. Sigrun was placed on first watch to be followed by Cauthrien so Anders sat at the fire and watched Connor and Tomas going through the language book with a smile.

“Nathaniel said he was your nephew?” Cauthrien said, sitting down next to Anders. He nodded and looked at the dark-haired woman. They hadn’t had much time to talk yet, despite his wish to do so.

“Yes, I just found out while we were in the Anderfels. He was at the circle there.”

“They let you bring him back?”

“They were having a crisis of their own with their templars, and he was the only Spirit Healer to survive. They felt it best to send him with me for proper training since there was no one there that could do it anymore.”

Cauthrien nodded and poked at the fire.

“How did you come to be recruited?” Anders asked after a moment of silence between them. Cauthrien looked up briefly before poking at the fire again. Anders could see a slight blush creeping up her ears - though it may just have been the cold.

“I had a small farm in the southeastern part of the arling. Co-Commander Nathaniel put out a call to the farmers in that area, wanting to take stock of our resources so he could possibly distribute them amongst the displaced farmers from the Templar attack,” she began, and poked the fire a little savagely.

“You came to the Keep then, to offer what aid you could?”

Cauthrien nodded again. “Nathaniel offered me a position in the Keep somewhere. He left the choice up to me, since you were apparently in need of trained soldiers. I stayed a few days, went back to my farm to get my things and close it up, got caught in the snow for two days, and then came back to take the Joining.”

“She’s leaving out the part where Nathaniel went with her to her farm and got caught in the snow with her for two days,” Sigrun said, grinning across the fire at the tall woman. Anders noted the dark blush that was spreading across her face in response and grinned.

“Well, we don’t need details on that,” Anders assured her. “And please don’t kill the dwarf, I might need her in the future.”

The mage stood up and pat Cauthrien on the shoulder, before moving to the tent he was going to share with Fenris that evening.

“He didn’t say you couldn’t maim her,” Anders heard Connor point out as he closed the flap. He chuckled softly and laid down next to the elf, who was already asleep. Fenris grumbled and shifted as Anders wrapped himself around the white-haired elf, settling again when they were comfortable.

“Are you okay?” Anders asked softly, frowning a little before nuzzling the back of Fenris’ neck. 

“Mmcold,” Fenris huffed in response and pressed himself back against Anders’ warmth. Anders smiled and wrapped his arms around the elf.

“I could think of a few things to warm you up,” he murmured, nipping at the tip of one of Fenris’ cold ears. He felt the elf shiver against him and did it again.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” Anders did it again, delighting in Fenris’ attempts to ignore the sensation.

“That.”

“This?” He did it once more.

“Yes that. Stop it.”

“Oh, you mean this,” Anders said and grinned as he did it again. Fenris elbowed him lightly in the stomach and Anders could see his pursed lips, even as his eyes stayed closed in an attempt to pretend sleep.

“Yes that, now stop before you start something you can’t finish.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?”

“I do. I am not letting you start anything out here in the snow and cold in a flimsy tent with people just outside. Go to sleep.”

Anders chuckled and settled down again. “Yessir.”


	11. Chapter 11

Denerim was much larger than Fenris had imagined it would be. Minrathous was still larger, but he had expected Denerim to be more like the size of Kirkwall or Hossberg. It looked like it was four tiers - he could see a huge tower and at least three sets of walls.

The first set of gates they went through brought them into a market area that looked nothing like any market he’d ever seen before. The shops and stalls were lined up very neatly down the street both ways and around the small plaza they were in. In the center of the plaza was a statue of what he recognised as the Warden Commander.

“It’s too tall,” Anders remarked, grinning slightly. Fenris snorted as they continued through the plaza, passing more shops and then housing before coming to the next set of gates.

“The city was almost completely destroyed during the Blight,” Cauthrien said, noticing his interest. “Queen Anora brought in as many city planners and architects as she could find to help rebuild. They were very thorough in the replanning of the city. Everything is made of brick and stone and ceramic now - to avoid fires.”

As they moved through the new section - mostly residential, Fenris noted Anders looking around in interest as well.

“They expanded the alienage as well, didn’t they? I remember it was difficult to find Wonders of Thedas when I was here six months ago.” Anders asked, looking over at Cauthrien. She nodded. “Hm. I wonder where they’re keeping their refugees right now.”

“Most likely Fort Drakon,” Cauthrien replied with a shrug. “The army didn’t even take up a quarter of it when it was at its full strength during the Blight. It probably has plenty of room for refugees.”

The next tier appeared to be the district that the nobles had their houses in. They rode through another small market before turning onto a wide thoroughfare that led to the royal palace. Fenris watched as they passed the last tier exit by, not passing through. It seemed to lead toward the Fort. Military quarter, he guessed. 

As they came to the gates, a handful of guards stepped forward, blocking their way.

“Identify yourselves and state your business please,” the guard in the front said, raising a hand. Fenris glanced at Anders, who stiffened slightly, but the mage nodded to Sigrun, who pulled her pony forward a few paces.

“Hello guardsman! I am Warden Sigrun. This is Warden Connor Guerrin, Warden Cauthrien, Warden Fenris, Tomas Skovsgaard, and Warden Commander Skovsgaard. We’ve come from Vigil’s Keep at the behest of the Queen.”

Fenris noticed the guardsmen begin to stand down almost immediately upon hearing Connor’s name, let alone the Warden designations. The leader nodded and gestured his men back before stepping aside. 

“Pass then, Wardens. The groomsmen in the yard will take your horses and your packs. I believe the Queen is expecting you.”

They passed through slowly following the cobbles through a park. Fenris looked at the barren trees in interest as they moved by them, curious as to what they looked like in the spring. They weren’t like the trees in Amaranthine, or up north. He wondered if they were planted specially or if they were native to Ferelden.

As the road curved around the park, they found themselves at a set of stairs where footmen were waiting. The men took their horse’s reins and held the animals while each person dismounted.

Fenris was slightly overwhelmed as they were immediately bundled up the stairs and passed from groomsmen to footmen to a housekeeper of some sort. She led them through vaulted stone with plush carpeting and tapestries covering all the walls. It was much warmer than the Vigil, though if what Cauthrien had said was accurate, it was likely the palace had been rebuilt and upgraded after the Blight.

The rooms they were finally shown to were huge. They had a small parlour with a large fireplace, chairs, couches, tables, a desk, and a terrace that overlooked one of the gardens. It was full of snow and mostly dead, but still interesting to look at, with the birds that still remained in the country flitting cheerfully around in the bushes below. Through the southern door in the parlour there was a small dining room and the northern door led to a foyer where there were three bedroom doors. It was obviously a set of rooms meant for visitors who came to stay for long periods of time; ambassadors, nobles, and the like. Fenris was surprised the Queen was letting them make use of such finery. 

Fenris explored the largest room, hearing the servant apologising to Anders in the foyer - something about not expecting Tomas to be in the party. Obviously the room he was in was the master bedroom; it had a large, double bed and a fireplace. There were bookshelves and a desk, wardrobe, tapestries and rugs, and a door that led into a private bath. He came back out into the hall as the servant was leaving and found Anders frowning.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?” Anders looked up at him, his face smoothing. “Oh, nothing. She was a little upset that we had one extra person. They had apparently assumed I would arrive with three other Wardens and Connor, but didn’t count on Tomas. We’ll be fine though, since you and I can share.” 

The mage grinned at him as the others came back into the hall as well, apparently finished with their own explorations.

“So, Sigrun and Cauthrien together, Tomas and Connor together, and Fenris will share with me. The Queen wishes to have lunch with us tomorrow, and I’m sorry Connor, but your aunt and your mother will be there as well.”

Connor made a face and sighed. “I knew I was going to have to see her, I was just hoping someone else would tell her first.”

“If that were the case, I think she’d be banging on the door right now, demanding my head,” Anders replied, raising his eyebrows in amusement. “At any rate, we are to have dinner here this evening and then we’re being measured.”

“Measured?” Sigrun asked, tilting her head curiously at the mage.

“Yes, the Queen thinks that we need new clothing for the First Day celebrations and our armour doesn’t count.”

“Ooooh! I want to wear something made with satin. I’ve always wanted to feel satin. And can it be orange? I like orange.”

Cauthrien snorted softly and Fenris saw a smile curl at the corners of her mouth. Anders just rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a say in any of it. We need to look presentable or some nonsense. I’m also getting more clothes for the Landsmeet since I’m being named Arl and she doesn’t want me looking like the scruffy mage I am.”

“Does that mean you’ll have to finally shave?” Sigrun’s eyes danced with amusement as Anders scowled at her. “I mean, I was very disappointed to not have been present when they removed the squirrel from your face in the Anderfels.”

“It was not a squirrel, it was a very well maintained beard and it was part of my cunning disguise,” Anders retorted.

“Yes, it was very cunning,” Fenris assured him, patting the mage on the shoulder and trying very hard not to laugh. “Perhaps we should take the time before dinner to clean up?”

Anders continued to scowl at them before kneeling down to Tomas’ level and explaining things to the child slowly in Anders. Fenris just smiled as the others dispersed to check out their own bathing chambers. Anders sent Tomas off with Connor and stood up again, his scowl returning as he looked at Fenris.

The elf just smiled and shrugged, gesturing for Anders to enter their room first before following behind and closing the door.

“You should start studying the signing language book. I packed it. I also made sure the clothes the King of the Anderfels gave you were packed as well. So you can wear them tomorrow when we meet the Queen,” Fenris said, sitting down on one of the chairs and beginning to unlace his boots.

“Thanks,” Anders replied as he pulled his own gloves and boots off. He peeked into the bathroom and sighed happily. “Hot water and a large tub. I love coming to Denerim.”

“You have one of those at the Keep too,” Fenris pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, but I have to share it with Nathaniel. Did you want to join me?”

Fenris was removing his chest piece and setting it on the table when Anders asked and slowed his movements for a moment, thinking about it. The way the mage waggled his eyebrows and grinned made it clear that he expected Fenris to blush and refuse, as usual.

“Alright then.” He grinned to himself at the look of surprise on Anders’ face when he agreed. “You’ll need someone to wash your back and behind your ears anyway, if you have to see the Queen tomorrow.”

It wasn’t as if Anders hadn’t seen him fully nude at least twice in the last year - he had nothing to hide, really. He noted the look of sudden reticence on Anders’ face and frowned as he crossed the room to the mage.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, of course,” Anders replied swiftly, avoiding Fenris’ gaze and fussing with the buckles on his own armour.

“If you would prefer not to share the bath, I don’t mind,” Fenris said, pushing Anders’ hands away from the buckles with a gentle touch and undoing them himself.

“No! I mean... I just wasn’t expecting you... I...” Fenris glanced up at Anders again and smiled slightly and pulled the padding over Anders’ head to lay it onto the bed. 

“We’ve never really... talked about this,” Anders said when Fenris turned around again and gestured between them. “I mean, I tease you, and flirt, and sleeping in the same bed and... and the kissing, but...”

“It’s alright, Anders. I just wanted to relax in the bath with you. I was not expecting anything else. I’m a little too tired for it anyway,” Fenris replied with a smile and pulled his shirt over his head. “It isn’t as if you haven’t seen me with my clothes off before.”

“That’s true,” Anders said, and Fenris could see a little bit of the tension leaving the mage’s shoulders. Fenris unlaced his breeches and slid them off easily. He turned then, not wanting to make Anders feel even more self-conscious and went into the bathing chamber with his smalls still on.

He found the pump and started it, letting the steaming water flow into the basin. When it was partially full, he pulled his smalls down and climbed in, sighing contentedly as the heat seeped into his skin. After the snow and cold of the road, it was certainly welcome.

When the water was high enough, Fenris reached over to shut off the pump and leaned back against the side. He glanced at the door, hoping Anders would come in. After another moment Anders finally came into the room, shedding the rest of his clothing with only a little hesitance and climbed into the bath with Fenris.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Fenris teased, smiling at the mage. Anders scowled without any heat and picked up a bar of soap, sniffing it curiously. “Worried I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself?”

“Maybe,” Anders replied and began to lather the soap, rubbing the suds across his chest and down his arms. Fenris’ eyes were drawn to the scar on the mage’s chest again, the large one he’d seen at Weisshaupt, but Anders hadn’t been willing to discuss it then and he didn’t want to push.

“...The day Justice and I merged,” Anders said after a moment, his hands stilling. Fenris met the mage’s eyes, his cheeks warming slightly at having been caught staring. Anders scratched the scar tissue near his heart before cupping water in his hands and beginning to rinse the soap off of his chest and arms.

“The day Justice and I merged, we were on a patrol with a few other wardens. One of them was a former templar named Rolan. He joined the wardens immediately after Commander Feyar went hunting for Morrigan with Alistair. The new commander we had came from Orlais and he didn’t like or trust me. He let Rolan follow me everywhere. We were always on the same patrols, always scheduled for duty together... he was even assigned to a room near mine in the castle. It was horrible.”

Fenris took the soap from Anders quietly and began to wash his own chest and arms, listening closely to everything the mage was saying. His eyes never left Anders’ face.

“It was like being in the Circle again... The patrol we were on camped near one of the smaller villages near the edge of the arling that night and Justice came to my tent. He had heard Rolan speaking to someone outside of camp. Rolan was going to turn me over to the templars and claim that I’d run off while everyone was asleep. He’d forgotten Justice never slept.”

The elf began to wash the suds off of his own body, lightly holding his lower lip between his teeth as he listened. He was resisting the temptation to interrupt, but he didn’t want to scare Anders off from finishing. The mage had rarely told him much of his past self.

“Anyway, Justice came to my tent and told me what was going on. He had been talking with Velanna, Nathaniel, and myself for some weeks about merging with someone else. There had been no definite decisions, but he was incensed by Rolan’s betrayal. The _injustice_ of it.”

Anders smiled then, glancing at Fenris before looking down at his hands again, touching the water and playing with some of the soap suds that floated near him. “He made the offer there. The offer to work together for mage rights. I had been betrayed by the wardens, the commander at the time would never have questioned Rolan’s words. So I said yes.”

“I don’t remember much after that. The actual merging is pretty vague. I have a fuzzy memory of seeing templars and then everything is blank again. We lost control. When I came to myself again I was covered in blood. The entire camp had been razed. The templars, the wardens, all of them were dead,” Anders’ voice hitched briefly and Fenris scooted closer to the mage.

“I had killed them. All of them with my _bare hands_. Some had been... It was...” Anders covered his face with his hands and took a shuddering breath. “There was a sword still in my chest.”

He touched the scar again and swallowed. “I’m still not sure how it didn’t kill me.”

Fenris wasn’t sure how to feel about what Anders had just told him. In the time he had known the mage he had never seen Anders purposely hurt another person. Demons, darkspawn, dragons and monsters the mage had seemed to have no problems with setting aflame, but when they would fight bandits and mercenaries the mage only used defensive magic. To hear now that he had murdered a squad of wardens and templars was surprising to say the least.

Finally, Fenris pulled Anders gently forward, hugging him. “Did you know, my escape from Danarius was an accident?”

“What?” He felt the mage blink against his neck, eyelashes tickling.

“We were in Seheron. All magisters go there at least once to fight Qunari. I was there with Danarius during his time, and was wounded. I managed to get Danarius to a ship, but they wouldn’t let me on the ship with him. I was a slave and they needed the space for more important cargo.”

Fenris smiled slightly to himself, running his hands soothingly through Anders’ damp hair. “You should have seen the look on his face as I was left on the dock. My wound became infected and I think I was delirious for a while. During that time, I was found by a group of Fog Warriors. They took me in and cared for me.”

He closed his eyes as he spoke the story, describing his confusion with his new-found freedom, his awe of these people who served neither the Qun or the Magisters. He could see the lush jungles of Seheron in his mind, the steam clinging to his skin like the oppressive humidity of the island.

“When Danarius returned for me the Fog Warriors stood between us. They tried to protect me from him. Danarius laughed at them and ordered me to kill them. So I did. All of them. Women, children, and men. These people that had cared for me and showed me what freedom could be. I didn’t even hesitate. By the time we got back to Minrathous I was so overwhelmed with guilt, I ran away.”

The elf felt Anders’ arms tighten around him before the mage pulled away, his eyes a little red around the edges, but looking calmer. Fenris touched his cheek gently before giving him a light kiss. “We all have our secrets, Anders. I thank you for trusting me with yours.”

At that moment there was knocking on the door and Fenris could hear Sigrun calling. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything sexy, because I would feel really bad if I were, but the tailor is here.”

Fenris snorted with amusement and looked at Anders who chuckled weakly. “We’ll be out in a moment, Sigrun. Thank you,” Anders called back before giving Fenris another kiss.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but AN UPDATE. GASP. OMG. ONLY ONCE EVERY 6 MONTHS. ^^ Sorry for the wait.

So far, Fenris’ morning had been quite busy.

There hadn’t been much sleep the night before. Tomas had ended up in their room due to a nightmare, and the child had nestled between them. Which wouldn’t have bothered the elf so much if he didn’t kick. And steal blankets.

Then there had been a rushed breakfast as a handful of servants had arrived with clothing for them to borrow for their lunch with the Queen. Cauthrien and Connor had been easily kitted out with black leather leggings and boots, loose grey shirts and blue vests. Tomas was given something from one of the page’s that was close to his size; loose brown trousers with a red, tunic-length shirt. Sigrun was a little harder since there weren’t many dwarves in the palace, so she ended up just wearing her Warden uniform without most of the armoured padding. Fenris had waved away the offerings for himself and Anders, having already packed their clothing from Weisshaupt. 

Fenris then dealt with a whining and grumpy Commander as he was manhandled into the finery by the servants. He enjoyed watching the mage’s discomfiture at being shaved and coiffed. Not to mention the complaints about the vest that he hadn’t had to wear in Weisshaupt because of his injuries.

“Stop fidgeting,” Fenris said, smacking the mage’s wrists as he tugged at his shirt sleeves nervously. “It is no wonder your coat sleeves were in tatters.”

“The vest feels like my chest is being compressed. It’s too tight.”

“Be thankful it’s not a doublet or a corset,” Cauthrien said from behind them. Fenris could hear the amusement in her voice as Anders scowled over his shoulder at her.

“You look fine,” Fenris assured him as the servant ahead of them stopped in front of a set of doors and waited a moment for them to adjust themselves.

“How are you so calm?”

“Practice,” Fenris murmured as the doors were opened and they were shown into a small dining room. Each was seated carefully in some sort of pre-designated order that only the servants knew. The room was large enough for their party with only one other seat at the head of the table.

It was a bright room, with warm colours painting the walls and floor. The heavy, red curtains were drawn back to allow the sunlight in, reflecting off the snow outside with a twinkle.

Anders was shown to the seat to the right of the head of the table where he started to sit, but Fenris shook his head slightly at the mage, who quickly settled himself to standing behind the chair. Connor was seated across from Anders, then Cauthrien next to Connor, Sigrun across from Cauthrien and finally Fenris and Tomas at the ends of each row.

Fenris frowned at that arrangement, not wanting Tomas to be a burden to Sigrun, but she didn’t seem to mind, grinning at the little boy and ruffling his hair. The door was opened again and the Queen entered. 

“I apologise for being a little late, things are quite busy around here lately,” Anora said, taking her place at the head of the table. He saw Cauthrien nod to Anders then, letting him know it was alright to seat himself now that the Queen was seated. Fenris watched Anders sink gratefully into his chair and smiled as the servants started to bring dishes in for them.

“Well now. I wanted to have lunch with all of you first, to greet you and to formally invite all of the Wardens that have come with you to the First Day celebrations in two days. If it isn’t too much trouble, after the lunch I would like to keep Connor, Warden Fenris, and yourself behind for some business, Commander?” Anora smiled at the mage who Fenris thought looked quite like a terrified rabbit.

“Um, yes, of course... Uh, Your Majesty,” Anders added hastily. He had confided to Fenris the night before that he had never been to anything so formal in his life and that he was somewhat scared of messing things up somehow. Fenris had managed to calm him down a little before Tomas came in to distract them both, but now he was wishing he’d been seated closer to the mage to help keep him from panicking.

The food set in front of him looked delicious. First was a thick soup that when Fenris tasted it he was surprised to find it was cold. It took him a moment to place the flavour. Cucumber soup. He had seen it served in Tevinter, but had never tasted it.

“Now, let me see. You are Warden Sigrun, yes?” Anora smiled at Sigrun who nodded and beamed, clearly excited that the Queen remembered her name.

“And Ser Cauthrien- I’m sorry, _Warden_ Cauthrien now, correct? It is good to see you again.”

“You as well, Your Majesty,” Cauthrien replied. Fenris could see Cauthrien visibly relax. He had only heard briefly from Nathaniel that Cauthrien had formerly been a Knight. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might have been nervous about this meeting as well. He would mention it to Anders, make sure he made it up to her somehow for dragging her along.

“Warden Fenris,” the Queen nodded to him with a smile before raising her eyebrows at Connor who smiled sheepishly at her.

“And _Warden_ Connor?” Connor ducked his head trying to hide the blush that was creeping across his face from his cousin. “Your mother will be joining us after lunch, along with your aunt. I will let you inform her.”

Anora then shifted her seat a little so she could see Tomas, who was poking at his soup curiously, stirring it with his spoon before lifting the utensil to watch the soup drip back into his bowl. “That is Tomas, yes?”

“Oh, yes, Your Majesty. He is my nephew,” Anders replied quickly. Fenris reached across the table and tapped the edge of Tomas’ bowl gently with his own spoon to get the child’s attention. The boy put his spoon down quickly and straightened when he realised everyone was looking at him.

The Queen gave Anders a speculative look that Fenris only barely noticed as Tomas was beginning to sign questions at him and he had to concentrate on what the child was asking. He had picked up the Antivan signing language fairly quickly, though his vocabulary was still limited, but already Tomas was spelling the words he wanted to say with efficiency. At times, however, Fenris would find himself trying to understand a word that the child had spelled in Anders instead of Trade and he would have to write it down to get Anders to translate. Right now he couldn’t do that however and only managed to catch the tail end of what Anora was saying - something about the First Day banquet and the Landsmeet that would occur.

“I… must admit I’m not very comfortable with all of this ceremony,” Anders said, poking at his soup until the servants came and took away the first course to replace it with roast beef, potatoes, and carrots with butter and what Fenris thought smelled like sugar.

“I understand, Commander, but you need to be officially recognised by the Crown as the new Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, and since that position also comes with the title of Arl, then there is some ceremony required,” Anora replied patiently.

“But I’m a mage.”

“Yes, I’m quite aware of that,” the Queen replied. Fenris could see Cauthrien wince across the table and wished again that he had been seated closer to Anders.

“No, I don’t think you are,” Anders replied, putting down his cutlery and pushing his uneaten food away. “The only reason I’m not dead right now is because of Hawke’s whim, and you want to paint a giant target on my back and tell the entire world where I am. The entire world mostly wants to kill me right now. You and I both know that Nathaniel should be getting this title-thing, not me.”

Fenris could almost feel the temperature drop in the room as Anora very carefully put her own cutlery down and gave Anders her full attention. He wanted to interrupt, to explain to the Queen how scared Anders was, but he didn’t know what to say. His mouth only opened slightly as he tried to think of a way to belay the woman’s obvious irritation, which would only make Anders more recalcitrant.

“Perhaps we should leave this discussion until after we’ve finished eating,” Anora finally said, and picked up her fork again, to continue eating the food in front of her. Fenris could see Anders looking more and more miserable however as the second course was finally taken away and third course was introduced. None of which Anders seemed to touch.

Anora veered the subject effortlessly to other things, telling Connor about his aunt and her impending baby, talking about how Teagan was doing with the building of the army, and other subjects that either they all knew about already or was just idle court gossip.

When the mage hadn’t touched the dessert course either, Fenris really was starting to get fidgety. He could see Anders fussing with the edge of the table cloth, his napkin, the cuffs of his sleeves, anything except the food in front of him. He wished when this was over he could just take Anders back to their apartments and calm him down, but they had to deal with Connor’s mother after this, and the business the Queen wanted to discuss.

The meal finally ended after the dessert course, and they all stood as Anora said good evening to Cauthrien and Sigrun, who took Tomas with them as they left Connor, Fenris and Anders alone with the Queen.

Fenris walked over to Anders as Connor followed Anora out of the dining room and put a hand on the mage’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Anders.”

“Will it?” the mage replied, the bitterness apparent in his voice as he turned and followed the others to the parlour.

Fenris continued with a sigh and found that there were two women being escorted into the room. One was older, with hair that may have once been blonde, but was now a silvery-grey colour. She had blue eyes and a very heavy Orlesian accent as she was introduced to Anders and then to himself. This was Connor’s mother, Lady Isolde, and her companion was a heavily pregnant woman with blonde hair and grey eyes. She looked much softer and had laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. She was younger, probably in her early thirties. This was Arlessa Kaitlyn.

“What are you _wearing_?” was the first thing from Isolde’s mouth after she kissed Connor’s cheek. Fenris watched as the young Warden fussed with the blue and silver clothing he’d been provided with by the Queen. Anora had them all sit before Connor could reply, citing that Kaitlyn shouldn’t be made to stand in her condition.

Fenris had just settled into the seat next to the young man when Connor shot to his feet again.

“Mother, I joined the Grey Wardens,” he said. The elf looked from the tall teenager to the older woman who was seated across from them and then back again. She appeared to be in some sort of shock.

“No! I forbid it!” Isolde said after finding her voice again, her eyes wide. “You should be coming here to stay with me now that the templars will not take you again!”

“Lady Isolde, I’m afraid it is already done. Connor took part in the Joining while he was at Weisshaupt,” Fenris said as Connor sat down next to him again.

“No! You can’t have him! He can stay here with me! He can be the Arl like his father, can’t he? You are giving the Arling of Amaranthine to this mage!” Isolde turned to Anora with a pleading expression.

“Mother. I want to be a Warden. I can help people and fight the darkspawn. I’m part of something. Uncle Teagan is the Arl now, and he is good at it. I don’t want to be Arl, even if Anora offered to let me,” Connor said softly. Fenris smiled at the mageling, knowing that the boy had been dreading this meeting with his mother, even going as far as to run away to the Anderfels with him and Anders to stay away from her.

“I believe you two can speak more in private about this later, if you wish,” Anora suggested. Fenris hoped she was just trying to avoid making himself and Anders uncomfortable, but when he glanced over at the mage, he was speaking softly with Arlessa Kaitlyn and smiling. The pregnant woman appeared to have taken the mage’s mind off of discussing the First Day celebration and the Landsmeet with Anora for now.

Isolde fell silent, but sat like a petulant child as Anora turned her attention to the others again.

“I had a feeling that Kaitlyn would like to see our Warden Commander,” she said with a smile and glanced at Fenris. “There are some other guests arriving soon that I will need to greet. I want to organise a meeting between them and yourselves. I am unsure what the Commander’s schedule is like while you are in Denerim?”

Fenris blinked in confusion. Anders’ schedule? The idea that Anders even had a schedule outside of the Queen’s whim made him actually smile. “I am fairly certain that the Commander’s schedule is completely open, Your Majesty.”

“Well then, perhaps the Commander and yourself would be able to return for a more private meeting after dinner?” she asked. Fenris glanced over at Anders, who was still focused on the Arlessa before tentatively nodding.

“I believe that is acceptable, Your Majesty.”

“Good then we shall hold off on our other discussions until then, I think.”

Fenris nodded, feeling a load of tension leave his body. He knew Anders was still feeling miserable and nervous and having to discuss anything pertinent to their current situation in front of Connor’s mother probably would have only made the mage harder to deal with.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's short, but it's an update!! OMG. I KNOW. I'M SO SORRY I'M SO VERY INCREDIBLY SLOW. THANK YOU TO EVERYONE (OLD AND NEW) WHO WAITS AND PUTS UP WITH ME. Also, they originally wanted smut here, and then they changed their minds. Fickle little fucks.

Only one more day until they were going to name him Arl of Amaranthine. Technically, it was less than a day now.

The thought terrified him.

Dinner had been a disaster in his opinion. While it had been nice to see Varric again, Zevran antagonized Fenris the entire time until _the Queen_ had told him to lay off. Then they had all ganged up on him. 

“It’ll be good for mages,” he mimicked in a whining tone as he pulled his boots off. 

“It’ll look nice on your wall with the Knighthood from the Anderfels.” A sock came off.

“It’ll make it harder for the templars to arrest you.” The other sock.

“Think of how handsome you’ll look at all the Landsmeets.” His belt came off.

“Anders.”

“You’ll get to order people around.” His tunic was coming over his head.

“Anders,” Fenris said again, smiling indulgently as the mage dropped his shirt to the floor and pouted.

“This is not how I envisioned my life, Fenris.” The elf was already in his sleep pants, and they were drawing Anders’ eyes to the loose way they slung over Fenris’ hips. He allowed himself to be distracted with thoughts of pulling them off the elf with his teeth for a moment as Fenris reached up to pull his hair tie out.

“I’m sure none of us ever end up where we envision ourselves,” Fenris replied drily. “I certainly never imagined myself being comfortable sharing sleeping quarters with an abomination.”

The word was said without the venom it used to hold, but it still made him flinch. “I’ll, um… go change.” He pulled away from the elf, but Fenris caught his arm. 

“Anders. I apologise. You are not an abomination. I was attempting to make a joke. Poorly it seems.”

He let Fenris stop him and sighed, turning to the elf. Wanting their relationship to be more, wishing it didn’t feel like it would be awkward to bury his face in that white hair and cling. Fenris had been more than accommodating by letting him cuddle when they shared a bed or tent, and putting up with his ridiculous flirting. As well as the kisses, and sometimes the nibbling, and their shared bath the other evening had been _very_ nice. 

Fenris leaned up when he turned and gave him a gentle, almost shy kiss. “You need sleep.”

He felt the warmth spreading from his chest at the gesture and smiled, suddenly feeling much better. “I suppose this will mean I get to boss Nathaniel around even more.”

The elf snorted and released him so he could change into his own sleeping clothes. “Maybe they’ll let me wear a ridiculous hat. Like the ones Isabela was always finding.”

“I’m glad that you’re feeling better about this.” Anders grinned at Fenris and shimmied out of his breeches quickly. He noticed that Fenris was watching and wiggled his butt at the elf suggestively before stepping into his sleep pants.

“I just keep thinking that the Maker is going to suddenly drop the other boot. That tomorrow they’re all going to suddenly realise what a terrible idea this is and a mob with torches and pitchforks will drag me off to be burned at a stake.”

“Hmm, they wouldn’t do that. Too reminiscent of Andraste. Can’t make a martyr of you,” the elf replied as he climbed into their bed. “More likely to hang you. Maybe chop off your head.”

“Well that’s not a morbid thing to talk about before bed.”

“You started it.”

Anders laughed at that and climbed in after the elf, pulling the blankets over them both, though he knew the elf would probably steal most of them during the night. He did not like how cold it was, and despite the fire and the rugs and tapestries and drapes, the room was still a bit nippy when the sun was down.

“Goodnight, Fenris.”

“Go to sleep, mage.”

“What if I can’t?”

“Then I will beat you over the head with something until you are unconscious.”

“How kind and thoughtful of you.”

“It would be more for my own sleep and sanity than for yours.”

Anders snorted and adjusted his pillows before turning to his side, back to the elf. He closed his eyes, listening to the quiet sounds of the wind outside, the creaking of the castle, and eventually Fenris’ breathing.

He opened his eyes again.

“Fenris?”

There was only soft, even breaths coming from the elf’s side of the bed. He was probably asleep. Of course he was. Anders stared at the rug in the firelight, trying not to think about all the ceremonies he was going to have to go through in the morning. All the people who would be watching. If kingdom politics were anything like Circle politics, he was going to get eaten.

Then again, Circle politics were cutthroat because of the isolation the mages lived in and the self-interest most of it encompassed. Kingdom politics was all about helping the people in your area, wasn’t it? Though Arl Howe had been pretty self-interested. Meredith had been insane. The Empress seemed to be pretty power-hungry. Maker, was he going to have to -

“Anders, stop it.”

He blinked and felt the bed shift behind him. Anders felt Fenris press against his back, and the elf’s muscular arms wrap around his waist under the blankets. “You’re thinking too loudly. Go to sleep.”

“But what if-”

“Sleep.”

“But-”

“Sleep.”

“Okay.”

He had to admit now, that his eyes did feel pretty heavy, and the warmth of the elf wrapped around his torso was comforting.

_Dear Maker,_

_Please let all of their trust in me not being for nothing._

_~Anders_


	14. Chapter 14

He watched Anders pace back and forth in the antechamber and sighed.

Breakfast had been a large ordeal that morning. Anders had been summoned to dine with the Queen while the rest of them had eaten in their rooms together without him. When he’d returned he’d been frazzled and had ruined the cuffs of the blue silk he’d gotten in Hossberg. They could be fixed by a tailor, but he wasn’t going to be able to wear the shirt to the Landsmeet.

The meal had apparently been with all the other nobles that had made it to Denerim in time for the First Day celebrations and Anders had been cornered by many of them, curious about the new Commander and future Arl of Amaranthine. He had apparently been unable to eat anything, and spent most of the time between breakfast and the Landsmeet dry heaving in the bathing chamber. 

Fenris and Cauthrien had been the two to finally wrestle him into some new clothing that had been brought for them during breakfast and drag him to the Landsmeet Hall. Conner had been picked up by his mother and forced to accompany her to the Landsmeet and Sigrun had volunteered to stay with Tomas since the child would probably only get bored.

Now the two of them, in full Warden regalia, watched worriedly as their Commander continued to pace, clenching and unclenching his hands. Fenris was sure he’d seen a few flashes of blue as well, which did not bode well. Justice could not take over during this, no matter how panicked Anders was. They heard movement in the hallway outside their chamber and a door opening and closing. Fenris knew there were others being Knighted and given gifts this morning. It was a day that most squires that had finished their training were given their knighthoods, so there were others that would be seen before them. 

Anders froze again when a knock came to their door a moment later. Cauthrien opened the door a crack and spoke to someone before closing it again.

“We’re to be next,” she said, glancing at Anders. 

The mage sucked in a breath and started to shake his head. “No, I can’t. I can’t do this,” he murmured, backing away from the door until he was pressed against the wall.

Fenris moved to him quickly and took his hands. “You’ll be fine, Anders,” he whispered fiercely. Cauthrien had turned away and stayed near the door to give them a little privacy.

“No, I can’t do this Fenris. It’s a trap. They know who I am and I’ll walk through those doors and there’ll be templars and they’ll drag me back to the Circle and make me Tranquil and-”

“They will do no such thing. I will not let them even if they were planning it, which they are _not_. You can do this. You are Commander of the Grey in Ferelden. You have argued with Knight Commander Meredith on her own ground, you have fought Qunari, dragons, templars, demons, magisters, and talking darkspawn. You have saved mages, elves, refugees, wardens, nobles, and princesses. You can go through those doors and put up with a silly ceremony for twenty minutes,” Fenris told him, his own voice more calm than he felt himself.

He watched Anders swallow and close his eyes briefly. The mage took three deep breaths before opening his eyes again and nodding. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Fenris matched Anders’ nervous smile with one of his own as the door opened again and Cauthrien turned to them. 

“It’s time, Commander.”

Anders took one more deep breath, steeling himself for the ceremony ahead. The elf leaned up and kissed him gently on the corner of his mouth. “For luck.”

The mage’s features relaxed almost immediately and he seemed to stand a little taller as he followed the page out into the hall. Cauthrien and Fenris fell in behind him as they were led into the main Landsmeet hall. Fenris also didn’t fail to notice the slight smirk on Cauthrien’s face and he scowled at her briefly before facing forward.

The room was packed, there were guards everywhere and he recognised Varric and Zevran off to one side. Connor was with his mother further down, though he was wearing his Warden armour and grinned at them as they passed. Others surrounding them were wearing jewels and finery, a few were in armour. They were probably the nobility, mostly Banns based on his understanding of Ferelden politics. The newly knighted were near the front, to one side of the Queen, all standing to attention and looking very proud of themselves. There was another man next to the Queen, though a step below her. He was in full armour and wore a tabard that looked familiar to Fenris, but he had not had time to study the heraldry of Ferelden very thoroughly yet.

“Senior Warden Raghnall Skovgaard, current Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, and Knight of Hossberg,” the Herald called, quieting the crowd as Anders reached the base of the dais that Anora was standing on. Fenris and Cauthrien split to the front of the crowd on either side, close enough to see everything, but still apart from the mage.

“Warden Skovgaard, you have been elected by a vote of your peers as the new Commander of the Grey in Ferelden. Do you accept the position that has been offered you?” Anora asked, smiling down at him.

“...I do, Your Majesty,” Anders replied after only a brief hesitation. His voice was clear and level, and Fenris felt a bit of pride swelling in his chest that the mage had managed to control his fear.

“The position of Commander of the Grey comes with many responsibilities, Warden Skovgaard, including the responsibility of the people of the Arling of Amaranthine. Do you accept responsibility for the people of the city of Amaranthine and the surrounding Arling?”

“I do.”

“Good. Will the representatives of the Landsmeet step forward?”

Fenris watched as two people came forward. One was a man wearing armour; the other was a very old man in finery.

“Bann Ferrenly, do you affirm the appointment of Warden Skovgaard as the Arl of Amaranthine?” Anora was looking at the man wearing finery. 

“I do, Your Majesty,” Bann Ferrenly replied, smiling in Anders’ direction.

“And you speak for the other Banns in this?”

“I do.”

“Arl Bryland, do you affirm the appointment of Warden Skovgaard as the Arl of Amaranthine?”

The man wearing full armour saluted the Queen and bowed slightly. “I do, Your Majesty.”

“And you speak for the other Arls in this?”

“I do.”

Anora smiled and nodded to both men, who stepped back again. “Teryn Cousland, do you affirm the appointment of Warden Skovgaard as the Arl of Amaranthine?”

The man that had been standing on the step below Anora stepped forward and Fenris’ eyes widened. He was the noble above them. He remembered hearing Varel speak of him.

“I have heard nothing but good from the Banns of Amaranthine and from the people Warden Skovgaard has been placed in charge of. He handled the attack on Amaranthine by the templars with courage and aplomb. I affirm this appointment.”

Fenris sighed in relief that the ceremony was almost over and glanced at Anders again. The mage’s ears were pink from the Teryn’s praise. 

“We have here also a letter of recommendation from King Grivaud of the Anderfels, and the First Warden.” Anora unfolded a set of parchments and held them out for all to see the Anderfel Royal Seal. “Does anyone here dissent this appointment?”

Holding his breath, Fenris glanced around the room as Anora waited a respectable amount of time. No one spoke.

“Senior Warden Raghnall Skovgaard, kneel.”

Anders knelt on the ground in front of Anora. Fenris saw him wince and mentally reminded himself to make sure Anders healed his knees later. The Queen took a sword from Teryn Cousland and held it steady as she looked down at the mage.

“Do you swear to honour and defend the Crown and Kingdom of Ferelden?”

“I do,” Anders replied.

“Do you swear to honour, defend, and protect all who are weaker than yourself?”

“I do.”

“I hereby name you, Raghnall Skovgaard, Arl of Amaranthine and accept your appointment as Commander of the Grey in Ferelden.” Anora tapped both of his shoulders with the flat of the blade before handing it back to Teryn Cousland. “You may stand.”

He only wobbled slightly as he pulled himself off of his knees, but only people at the front would have noticed. Anora stepped lightly down from the dais and kissed Anders’ cheek lightly. The Landsmeet then cheered as the Teryn reached out and took Anders’ hand, shaking it vigorously.

“The Landsmeet is now ended and the First Day celebrations will now begin!” Anora shouted over the crowd, which caused more cheering and the people began to relax and mingle.

Fenris and Cauthrien moved forward to meet Anders as he walked away from the Queen. He looked like he was going to faint.

“Thank the Maker that’s over,” Anders murmured, leaning against Fenris.

“Now you just have to accept a hundred offers of congratulations and at least that many handshakes before the ball tonight, and then you’ll get another hundred or so more,” Cauthrien said, raising her eyebrows. Her eyes were twinkling with suppressed mirth as Anders scowled at her. A scowl that quickly disappeared as said offers of congratulation already began to come forward to take his hand.

Fenris chuckled softly and stepped back a little with Cauthrien to allow Anders to greet his new peers.

“Never thought I’d see the day, Broody.”

The elf raised his eyebrows and glanced down at the dwarf that had come up next to him, looking with amusement at the newest Arl of Ferelden.

“Certainly not something I ever expected to see,” the elf agreed.

“Hawke, maybe, but Blondie? A noble? Pretty ironic isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” Fenris replied, nodding.

“He looked like he was going to pass out for a while there.”

“This was almost Justice being honoured instead.”

“That would have been a spectacle,” Varric replied with a chuckle. “I guess I’ll see you at the ball tonight?”

“I suppose you will. If I can get him into his clothing for it.”

Varric put up his hands, shaking his head. “More information than I wanted about your relationship, Elf.”

“You have a very dirty mind, Dwarf.”

Varric only grinned again. “See ya later, Broody.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ceremony is based on a real Medieval Knighting Ceremony (I cut bits and pieces and made it a LOT shorter); and yes, Bann Ferrenly is the one Anders saved as a child. :p


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how long this has taken. Thank you all for sticking with me.

He was not expecting to be quite so popular at the ball.

There was a time he would have loved the attention, but not anymore.

Right now, his feet hurt. He’d been forced to dance with practically everyone who’d asked, especially as most of them were political contacts that Varric pointed out he’d need in the future and it was best not to spurn them right away.

Then there was the smiling. His cheeks were hurting from all the forced smiles he was having to do. All the graceful thank yous to the kind wishes from his “fellow nobles”.

That was bizarre too. So many people calling him Arl Skovgaard. None of them seemed to want to tackle his first name, and sometimes he thought maybe he’d take pity and tell them just to call him Ronald, since that was the Ferelden version. However, it was still pretty strange to be called anything other than Anders by most people; and while ‘Arl Anders’ made him snicker to think about, he knew it wasn’t feasible.

“Maker, do you think they’ll let me leave now?” Anders whined as he flopped into a seat next to Fenris, who was drinking from a wine glass and looking very amused.

“I’m sure they would, the Grande Dames and the Stately Old Gentlemen have all made their excuses, after all,” the elf replied. Anders didn’t like the twinkle in his eye and scowled.

“They didn’t have to dance with every noble in Ferelden.”

“At least Sigrun appears to be enjoying herself,” Fenris nodded toward the dance floor where Sigrun had somehow managed to drag Varric. Anders smiled slightly watching her spin cheerfully in the bright orange, satin dress she’d gotten from the tailor. Cauthrien had been given a deep blue gown, but she had retired after dinner with Tomas. Connor was somewhere, probably surrounded by young, pretty people who were all making him blush and keeping his mother happy.

“I’m actually surprised that Varric knows how to dance,” Anders remarked, taking a wine glass from a passing servant and downing most of it quickly. He should probably drink water rather than alcohol, but being pleasantly tipsy helped when dealing with so many spoiled people. It was too bad his Warden stamina and Justice tended to make even ‘pleasantly’ tipsy difficult.

He sighed and rolled his shoulders before leaning more heavily into his chair. “I haven’t seen you dance at all.” Anders glanced at Fenris out of the corner of his eye as he snatched another glass of wine passing by.

“I do not dance with strangers,” Fenris responded with a slight tilt to his mouth.

“I know Sigrun asked you, because she complained to me that you were ‘no fun’ when she danced with me.” The elf shrugged, drinking from his own glass. “And Zevran said he’s asked you at least five times.”

The smirk disappeared and green eyes narrowed dangerously at him. Hah. He was jealous still. Anders would have smirked if the Antivan in question hadn’t chosen that moment to come up behind him.

“Ah, my dear Arl. I thought I saw you hiding over here. I know you are becoming tired in your old age, but I knew I would be remiss if I did not ask you to dance at least once,” he said, putting his hand out for Anders.

Another dig about his age was really what made him purse his lips. He glanced at Fenris again and then let Zevran pull him out of his chair. The Antivan swept him back into the crowd of dancers and pulled Anders a little closer than he felt comfortable with.

“Zev, you don’t have to hold me quite so close,” he murmured. The elf just chuckled and leaned up slightly to speak in his ear, which made him shiver.

“Don’t worry. Your handsome warrior has not danced with you yet, and I will remedy that for you,” Zevran explained, grinning.

“What are you- Zevran!” Anders squeaked as the elf’s hand on his waist moved a bit lower and squeezed.

“My dear Anders, you have not been properly goosed in years, I am thinking.”

“Yes, well no- I mean… There were some little old ladies in the clinic that would pinch me sometimes,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing as he remembered their winks and cackling laughter.

“Sigrun looked like she was getting somewhat friendly,” Zevran noted with a wicked grin.

Anders rolled his eyes. “She can only reach my butt to begin with.”

“Yes, but she was enjoying that, I think.”

“At least for the Nevarran dances, yes. I like the Ferelden ones better. You just walk next to each other with silly steps and do some spins in a line.”

“That’s why I chose a Nevarran dance, of course.” Zevran’s grin widened and he leaned up to Anders’ ear again. “Don’t panic, my friend, but your admirer is here.”

Anders yelped as his ass was squeezed again before he was roughly pulled away from the elf to find Fenris there. The warrior was glaring at Zevran and had put himself between the two of them. 

“Do you mind if I cut in?” It sent a shiver down Anders’ spine as Fenris sounded very much like he didn’t care whether Zevran minded or not, but the other elf just raised his hands and bowed out of the way.

Abruptly, Anders was swept back into the dance by Fenris, who seemed to know the steps a lot better than he did, as he’d been mostly muddling his way through. They danced for a few moments in silence, Anders still embarrassed by Zevran’s intimacy and sure that Fenris was probably mad him again - even though it obviously wasn’t his fault.

“Um… thank you,” Anders said finally, clearing his throat. “For uh… saving me from Zev. He wouldn’t stop pinching my ass.”

“I noticed,” Fenris responded. His voice was flat. Definitely annoyed.

“I… didn’t think you’d dance with anyone tonight.”

“The right person did not ask me.”

Anders flinched. “I’m sorry. I wanted to, but then all those nobles kept asking and Varric said I shouldn’t turn anyone down because you never knew who you were going to offend, and then my feet were so tired when I finally had a moment and Zevran made that crack about me being old right after you had and-”

“Shush mage.”

He swallowed and bit his tongue to keep from babbling further, but Anders felt better now. He could see the corner of Fenris’ lips twitching. “You do dance very well.”

“I was taught a variety.”

“Oh. I mean… I didn’t mean to bring up anything-”

“I wanted to dance with you, you didn’t bring anything up that I did not wish to have brought up,” Fenris said, openly smiling now. The music ended at that moment and they stopped moving. Anders looked around and saw that Fenris had maneuvered them to one of the exits and sighed in relief. “I thought it best we retire for the evening?”

“Maker, yes.”

**

Maybe it was the clothes. He had taken off his boots the moment they’d gotten back to the room, and the doublet and belt had followed quickly after.

Or perhaps it had been the wine on the table. It had just a little tag on it with a heart drawn on. Anders was pretty sure it was from Zevran.

It could have been the note from Varric, indicating that all of the ‘children’ were spending the night elsewhere and to “Have fun”.

Truthfully, he was pretty sure, it was a combination of all three that were to thank for his lap full of very handsy elf. Also, the lips at his throat? Amazing. Along with the tingle of lyrium and the wriggling of narrow hips.

_Dear Maker,_

_Yes, yes yesyesyesthankyouyes._

_Love, Anders._


	16. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE END. AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER WITH NO BLOWING UP OF THE FADE OR STUPID EGGS.

Fenris stretched.

It was a luxurious feeling. No pain. No scratchy feeling from the sheets and blankets. No burning as he pulled the muscles around his markings. Even weeks after Avernus had made him drink some foul concoction and Anders cast the spell that the blood mage had taught him, he still revelled in the newness of it. The sheer joy.

He hummed and yawned and smiled at the ceiling before rolling to the body next to him and kissing its shoulder. “Wake up.”

“Nnnn.”

“You have to see Velanna and the mages off today.”

“Nn.”

“And you have to check on the new building sites.”

“Mmf.”

“I believe you also have a meeting with Lirene.”

“Ugh.”

Fenris chuckled and kissed the back of Anders’ neck lightly before biting him.

“Ow!” The mage jerked away, surprised, and glared over his shoulder at Fenris. “You bit me.”

“You didn’t seem to mind the biting last night.”

“That wasn’t when I was trying to sleep.”

“You aren’t trying to sleep now either.”

“Yes I am!” Pounce jumped onto the bed at that point and Anders sighed heavily. “Fine! I’m awake! Are you happy?” The tabby meowed at him and butt his head against Anders’ face.

“What’s the weather like?”

Anders squinted in the morning sun and pushed himself onto his elbow to peer out the window. “Slush.”

The late winter storms had mostly turned to ice and rain as spring started to peek through the snow again; leaving everything decidedly muddy. Anders whined and flopped back down onto his back. “Can’t Velanna just take them all to Soldier’s Keep without me saying words of wisdom or some such nonsense?”

“You know the children will want to say goodbye to you,” Fenris responded, sitting up and yawning again. The mage children had all taken a great liking to the Commander, who would play with them and teach them silly things - though Fenris knew that all of Anders’ silliness was just lessons in magic control made more fun. The mage was a good teacher.

“Fine, okay. But they don’t need me at the building sites. Nate can do that.”

“The new sites have all been marked and they need your healer’s eye to help them with the drainage, you know that.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

Fenris smiled and leaned over, kissing Anders’ forehead. “I’m always right.”

The mage rolled his eyes, but smiled back. “How are you feeling today?”

“Fine. Perfect.”

“Are you sure?” Anders was frowning slightly now, and sat up. He’d fussed over Fenris for the few weeks after their work with Avernus was complete, worrying about his markings, worrying about the potion Avernus had made, worrying about everything.

“Yes, I’m sure. No headaches, no loud songs, no pain, no itching… Well… maybe a little soreness.”

Anders’ eyes widened. “Where? Show me-”

Fenris grinned and turned his back to the mage, pointing at his ass. “There.”

“Oh. Well that’s your own fault.”

“I seem to remember it being _your_ fault.” He laughed at Anders’ pink cheeks as the mage huffed and picked up Pounce.

Knocking at the door cut off whatever retort the mage had as it opened right away to reveal Tomas. The little boy was already beginning to grow like a weed - the Wardens kept him well fed - and he ran in, throwing himself onto the bed with them excitedly.

Fenris watched with fondness as the boy began to sign rapidly at his uncle, babbling about his friends going with Velanna, but seemingly happy that Conor was staying in Amaranthine.

He ran a hand through his hair and smiled.

_Dear Maker,_

_I had thought that Hawke and my friends in Kirkwall were my family._

_I was wrong._

_This family you have given me is perfect._

_Even if the mage is ridiculous sometimes._

_Thank you,_

_Fenris._


End file.
